Til Kingdom Come
by Fleetfoot
Summary: Til Kingdom Come is post OOTP fic. What will our hero do after his godfather's death? Are there any more magical adventures and suprises to be awaited? What is this strange mess our hero seems to have landed in now? Naruto - Harry Potter Crossover
1. Prelude

_All comments and constructive criticism will be welcome and thought over. I appreciate all the help I can get._

_Thank you,  
The Author._

Harry Potter - Prelude

All was quiet that summery day on Privet Drive, except from one boy, who was mentally screaming at nothing in general. He seemed to be on the verge of exploding due to the mind-boggling boredom that reigned the house. It is a known fact that if a teenage boy doesn't get enough exercise, he will spontaneously destroy the house if un-restrained.

Although this might seem perfectly ordinary behavior from someone who was "bored to bits," _what_ this messy black haired boy was silently ranting about, was not. Besides, what could reading and staring at cheaply painted, beige walls do _but _increase boredom?

Fortunately for this "scruffy, ill-mannered criminal," his relatives, (whom he lived with,) weren't able to hear or see what he was doing, or he would have been punished faster than he could have said "Maddest of Muggles." It was a good thing he actually had a room, and didn't live in the cupboard under the stairs any more, or the no-meals-and-stay-in-your-"room" punishment would have been a killer. Literally.

On the other hand, if the patch of not-so-clean, beige carpet he was currently intently staring at had burst into flame, his punishment would have been far, far worse.

You see, this boy wasn't very much ordinary. In fact, what he knew, could have been, (and was,) considered to be completely insane, and a criminal by almost all of the residents of the quiet, and normal, (Thank you very much,) Privet Drive.

Not to mention that what adventures he had survived so far, were probably more than any ordinary person would encounter in two of their lifetimes put together.

Besides the fact that this young man had a crazed Dark Lord trying to kill him at every turn, an Uncle who neglected him and belittled him all summer, an Aunt who wanted him dead, two already dead parents, (Lily and James Potter,) Draco Malfoy as an enemy, (heir of one of the most powerful pureblood families,) and a godfather who was an escapee from Azkaban, (a feared prison,) to be simply put, Harry James Potter couldn't be considered normal, because he was a wizard.

Therefor, according to his _slightly _tempermental Uncle of his; Harry and "his kind" were most certainly _not_ to be looked upon as normal

And the funny thing was, that he liked it.


	2. Of Books, and Locked Doors

Harry Potter - Chapter 1 - Books and Locked Doors

_Come on, you idiot! _He ranted. _You looked everywhere for the damn book, and here it is. _

Harry Potter was currently studying a heavy, leather-bound book, titled _'The World of Animagi', by Albert P. Laurence_. He had managed to sneak Hedwig past the Order guards, even after Dumbledore, (whom he was still mad at,) had forbidden owl post _from_ his best friends. Harry was secretly glad that Dumbledore's order had been so easily bypassable, and was planning on ordering more books from Flourish and Blotts to keep himself entertained during the usually tortuous summer holidays. Maybe being in Slytherin wouldn't have been so bad after all…

When Harry found the introduction had been tedious and boring to read he wasn't too thrilled, but when it came to the even more complicated explanation of the shape shifting theory, Harry was left clueless and infuriated. He would have given just about anything for his best friend, Hermione, to have been there to translate what seemed to be a foreign language into something Ron (his other best friend) and himself could've understood within a relatively short period of time.

But, two hours later, Harry was just about ready to give up. A minute after sighing dejectedly, he slammed the book shut, admitting defeat, and muttered about not being able to purchase portable translators for "unknown languages."

_I give up._ Harry though, rather grumpy. _It is too much reading anyways, and I need a break._

Sitting up, the black haired boy stretched himself, getting rid of all traces of stiffness and pins and needles. He then slid off his bed, stood up, and looked at the beautiful summery sky outside his window, wishing for his owl Hedwig, to come back soon from wherever she had gone off to hunt. Boredom seemed to be an almost permanent thing to suffer from, in the Dursley household, even when they themselves weren't there.

_I have no idea how my dad and… S- _Harry's chest contracted with sorrow._ I have no idea how they all did it. It takes so much reading to actually get the _theory_ let alone trying out the real thing. How on earth could they have managed to become Animagi in such a short time?_

Images of Harry's defiant godfather flashed through his mind. Lestrange shooting a stunning curse at him… The veil…

His eyes prickled fiercely, but he wouldn't allow himself to cry. A bitter smile appeared on his lips. As much as he wanted to see him again, he would have to wait, until the "someday," when he died, came. Harry was torn between hoping for himself to die soon, rather than staying alive to face Voldemort and the rest of the world.

Harry turned away from the window, and tiredly took a few useless steps towards the barred door. The Dursleys had locked it, not wanting Harry to "Blow up the house." Or to "Wreak havoc in the kitchen."

Sighing miserably, he walked back to his small bed, and sat down heavily onto the faded bedcovers, making the used springs groan. Being locked up in a room with virtually nothing but a boring book was not his thing. Quidditch was.

Memories resurfaced… His first time on a broomstick… Joyful Quidditch matches… Winning the Quidditch cup… His Nimbus 2000… Beating Draco Malfoy… _The look on his face! _Harry smiled, remembering the incident.

_It was way worth it._

Flying on his faithful Firebolt... _The one… _His smile disappearing faster than a speeding portkey, at his sudden remembrance.

_The one Sirius gave me._

Harry's back sagged against the bare beige wall, as joy fled from him. By now, his smile and happy mood was completely gone, and he felt just as cold and empty as what the feared dementors of Azkaban left him after an encounter or two.

_He's gone, Harry. _The words echoed in Harry's head. _Gone._

_Then I have to become an animagus. _Harry thought, gathering his withering determination._ For Sirius and my dad… For Padfoot and Prongs. They would've wanted me to get through this. Besides, it does me no good to mooch around like a sullen three-year-old._

Sitting back up against the wall, Harry grabbed the book about Animagi that lay next to him, and read on, determined to succeed.

* * *

_Hmm… I think I've got it. _Harry thought, nearly a whole other hour after his silent vow._ Now, all I need to do is pick an animal. _He sighed. _Nope, definitely not easy._

Sure, the dumb book had suggested picking something to "match your personality," but his feelings and emotions seemed to be so flighty that he couldn't catch onto them for too long. It was almost as if they fluttered around him like a rare type of butterfly, stubbornly refusing to be caught, and he chased after with a ripped net. It seemed pretty hopeless if he couldn't gather himself for long. Being depressed didn't help in the least.

_All too lame._ He sighed again.

The door slammed downstairs, a good indication that the Dursleys were back home. Harry's face took on a sour expression as he got up from the old, lumpy mattress, and kneeling, pried a loose floorboard up. He slipped the blue and gold hardback covered book in, and replaced the board again, when…

"BOY! Get down here now and help unload the car." His Uncle shouted, disturbing the quiet atmosphere that had reigned in the house.

Harry resisted the urge to shout back downstairs, sarcastically reminding beefy Uncle Vernon that his bedroom door had been locked since they left, and that he simply _couldn't_ _get _out of his room.

_And, while I'm at it, _a little voice in Harry's head piped up, _I may as well tell him that I need to go to the loo. _

"Boy. Get downstairs now!"

It seemed that Harry's silent debate with himself had taken too long for Uncle Vernon's liking. Harry snorted, wondering if there really was a brain up in his Uncle's head.

_Probably not, seeing as there's all that fat… _

Trying not to laugh, Harry shouted back down, "My bedroom's locked, Uncle Vernon. It'd be handy if you could come let me out."

The stairs creaked, one by one, as Harry's uncle stomped up to the second floor, and over to his bedroom door. The three locks on the door clicked, the door handle turned, and the door swung open, revealing the rest of the all too clean house.

"Hurry up, boy."

Harry sighed, and headed downstairs, to "help" unload the car, which was pure slavery in his opinion. On the positive side, Uncle Vernon didn't dare go too far as to overloading Harry with work, because of Mad Eye's warning at King's Cross.

_More like Mad Eye's threatening. _Harry mused. _I owe him one for that. _

Opening and closing the front door behind him, Harry headed towards the car, only to be shoved into the doorframe by a smirking Dudley. Nowadays, he seemed to be taking every chance to taunt, annoy, and harass Harry, despite whatever Uncle Vernon might've mentioned about Professor Lupin or Moody.

Aunt Petunia, however, wasn't so bad. She seemed to be content with generally ignoring the boy, and giving him his customary chores, although not going out of her way to make it extra hard for him. That, Harry didn't mind at all. Although fewer chores would've been pleasurable, he didn't think that she would suddenly listen to his every wish.

He picked up heavy grocery bags, and made his way towards the kitchen. He supposed he would have to put everything into the fridge as well.

_Doesn't matter much. Hermione probably has to help her parents with the shopping too. And as for Ron, his mother probably uses magic. Come to think of it… Do wizards even go shopping?_

Harry smiled at the thought. Wizards and witches probably used magic to whip up some food or something of the sort. It would've been a funny sight to see his best friend dragging shopping bags into his kitchen. Or to see floating Sainsbury bags zoom into the Burrow's smallish kitchen… The Weasley twins would've probably taken care of that, and might have even made the poor grocery bags race against each other!

Shaking himself out of his bizarre thoughts, he tidied the food into the right places in the refrigerator and the cupboards, making sure that it was neat. He didn't want to give his Aunt an excuse to make him start all over again, however nice she had become this summer.

Once he was done with the groceries, Harry trudged quietly up to his room, careful not to distract his Aunt, and Uncle, who were lounging in the living room, watching the evening news. Slowing his pace, Harry leaned against the wall, listening to the last few words of the newsman.

"… Employees are currently complaining about low wages…"

Nope, nothing of interest. No unexplained killings or murders, so no Voldemort. Harry turned, ingored the posh-sounding news reporter, and walked up the carpeted stairs, minding the really squeaky steps. He really would've hated to give the Dursleys an excuse to rag on him again, especially since Sirius was gone. He sighed unhappily, and closed his bedroom door click shut behind him. He really missed his scruffy godfather, and his black furred disguise, "Padfoot," and what little the two had done together. The family he had barely known

Reaching down, Harry pried the loose floorboards open, and rummaged around, pulling out a school textbook to read. As much as he hated potions, he wasn't about to let Snape ridicule him for another entire school year. Sitting back against the wall, Harry turned another page, and started reading, getting lost in the surprisingly interesting potions text.

Hours passed quickly, and before Harry knew it, his Aunt Petunia was screeching for him to 'come downstairs and make dinner.'

* * *

That night, a tired Harry Potter changed into his pyjamas, and sat on his bed, pulling out his book on Animagi. An hour or so of reading passed, before he turned to look out of the smallish, dirty bedroom window at the moon shining in the dark sky.

_Nearly full... I hope that Moony will be okay._

Flipping over to the next page of the Animagi book, Harry noticed that it was the start of a new section. It read:

_The animal within: How to find it._

Shifting slightly to ease a numb foot, Harry refocused his attention to the book, and read on about the many different meditation techniques. Some used potions, and others not. Focussing on the section about the meditation styles with the least magic and potions involved, Harry started memorizing what to do.

In this case, the reader had to find his mental "center," and, as far as Harry understood, it meant that he had to sift through his memories and thoughts, until he came across the middle of his being, with his magic, talents, and essentially, what made him... well, him.

_Oh, gee. Won't that be easy peasy for me. With Voldemort and the Tri-Wizard Cup to sort through, I daresay that it will take a while._

Resting his head against the white bedroom wall, Harry relaxed as much as he could, not thinking of anything in general, gradually slowing his breathing down, muscles un-tensing. Minutes passed, as he forgot to worry about his itches and discomforts, a feeling of peacefulness welling up and flooding him. Inwardly, the black haired boy smiled, as he finally understood what Snape had meant by "clearing your mind."

Vague memories surfaced briefly, but he ignored them, pushing them away and travelling deeper into himself. An eternity seemed to pass, but also a second, until the boy came across a peaceful emptiness. It might have been his magic, but he wasn't sure, the thought dissipating as soon as his consciousness was swallowed up.

_He was in what appeared to be a grassy spread of tall grass and wild plants, one that bordered a large, deep green forest. He couldn't smell or hear anything, but the slowly waving tall stalks of green grass, and the sapphire blue sky dotted with fluffy, white clouds looked like paradise. If he could have, he would've stayed there, watching the vivid but peaceful scene forever. It had an unrealistic feel to it, but he did not mind. His spirit felt as if it was soaring through that pure blue sky, elation filling him, mingling softly with the peacefulness that emanated from the grassy scene. He could see everything and anything, and felt so unrestricted... _

_Wings flapped, softly glowing gold where the warm sun shone, before folding up again, disappearing against the animal's voluminous body. Ruffled tawny coloured fur seemed to glitter, as the wind combed through it. A large maw opened wide, displaying alarmingly long predator's teeth, but with a soft looking, wrinkled pink nose. Large, heavy muscles stretched, claws spreading out, digging into the soft ground. _

_The breeze tugged at the golden mane, and the image changed._

_There was a fertile, green hillside, so bright and pure, that it made the dark coloured creature loping up it seem odd and foreign, compared to the scenery. A black tail with soft blue undertones was raised high, a sure sign of leadership. Dull claws scraped at the looser rocks under the swaying grass, as muscles bunched and stretched, propelling the black shadow upwards, towards the top of the green hill. A long snout open, panting happily, filled with sparkling white teeth, contrasting against the dark pelt. Briefly, the long pink tongue darted out to lick the moist, black nose, and stunning, emerald eyes that shone, were opened wide, full of the happiness of freedom. _

_He was, flapping, soaring above the breeze, and next, he ran through tall stalks, paws pounding the ground. _

_It was pure bliss._

_

* * *

_

**_Sainsburys_** - A chain of supermarkets that run throughout England and Scotland. (I am unsure about Ireland.)


	3. Of Discovery and a List of Labour

Chapter 2 - Of Discovery and A List of Labour

His eyes fluttered open, responding to the soft, but naggingly annoying morning light. Blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness coming in through the small, dirty window, the black haired boy's pale lips curved into a tiny smile, as he savoured the peaceful silence that reigned the house. At that moment, there was no Aunt Petunia to give him work, no Dudley that would beat him up, and best of all, no Uncle Vernon. Not uttering a sound, Harry Potter looked out the window, and, deciding it was still early enough for him to stay in bed, sighed, and yawned widely, throughoutly content.

In his opinion, -not that it mattered very much to anyone- this was by far the best, most peaceful moment in his entire life.

_I could purr, if I was a cat right now..._

There was no rush to get up and out of bed, judging from the colour of the sky, and the brightness of the light, Harry had concluded that it was at least an hour before eight, his normal get-up-and-make-breakfast time. (According to his Aunt, of course.)

Getting out of bed, the pale skinned boy stretched, and went to change clothes, putting the dirty ones in a pile in the corner. As he suspected, the door was locked, and the doorknob stayed firmly stuck when he tried opening it, which meant that he wouldn't be getting a shower any time soon. Shaking his head, Harry picked up a shirt that looked clean from the top drawer and pulled it on. It looked ridiculously large front ways on him. But, on the other hand, it came to Harry that the washed out red shirt didn't come down so close to his knees anymore. Maybe he had grown a little?

Remembering the dream that he had dreamed the other night, Harry walked across the room from his dresser towards his bed, knelt, and pulled out the large, blue book on Animagi. He stood, and sat down on the bed in front of him, not caring about the fact that he was supposed to make it look "nice" as his Aunt had said. Turning to the section where he had left off, Harry found the page, and started reading again.

_...Once you have found your spirit guide, it will give you a reasonable idea of what your own Animagus form will be if you attempt to transform. _

_Spirit guides most often come to people in the form of animals, but sometimes, this will differ for certain people. Magical animals will usually signify a more powerful wizard, and the larger the animal is, the harder the Animagus transformation will be. For witches and wizards who's power level is above average, it would not be uncommon for them to become a smaller, common magical animal such as a kneazle, or an owl. Other wizards and witches with more powerful magic, the more magic they possess, the uncommon the Animagus form will be. _

_In history, it has been rumoured that Merlin possessed two Animagus forms, one of which was a phoenix. Here, the known human magical Animagi have been listed below, in approximate order of discovery._

_- Symris Snape-Slytherin (Deceased)- A Basilisk Animagus_

_- Emryn Arzul-Weinth (Deceased)- An Kneazle Animagus _

_- Ador Black (Deceased)- A Grim Animagus_

_- Godric Gryffindor (Deceased)- A Golden Gryffin Animagus_

_- Salazar Slytherin (Deceased)- An Ashwinder Animagus (See Index)_

_- Albus Dumbledore - An Eastern Phoenix Animagus (See Index)_

_- Minerva Finnigan-McGonagall - An European Kneazle Animagus (See Index)_

_- Sirius Black (Deceased)- A Magical Breed of Dog Animagus (See Magical Creature Hybrids, Index)_

_- Severus Snape - A Magical Raven Animagus_

_- Lilly Evans-Potter (Deceased) - An Oriental Unicorn Animagus (See Index)_

Harry laughed when he saw Sirius's name on the list. So he was a magical Animagus, and part Grim after all! Looking higher up the list, Harry giggled when he saw the name Ador Black as a Grim Animagus. It seemed to run in the family.

_Wait 'till I tell Remus about that. I bet he didn't know! _Harry paused. _Well, if he did, we still can have a laugh about it!_

Still grinning, Harry read down the list, his eyes widening when he saw that his _potions professor _was a magical animagus, (of all people!) as was his mother!

_Oh wow. Mum was unicorn animagus! She must've been really powerful to actually manage that!_

Flipping to the back of the book, Harry found a magical index, magicked to fit the book, and containing all sorts of creatures. With the index, he was able to find out that the Oriental Unicorn was indeed a smaller type of unicorn that liked to live in the warmer parts of Japan and China, and that it avoided civilization like a plague. It appeared that although the Oriental Unicorn was white in colour, it's hooves and horn were red, a colour that the Chinese thought of as good luck.

Harry smiled when the thought struck him. _A unicorn in Gryffindor colours… _

Satisfied, the scruffy, black haired boy flipped back to the page with the list of magical Animagi, and turned one page forward. His eyes lit up at the heading at the top of the page:

_Shape shifting_

Harry grinned widely, and continued reading, absorbing the information like a dried sponge. He couldn't wait to try it out!

**_

* * *

_**

A tired, bruised Harry Potter dragged himself up the stairs, wincing as he stepped on his bad ankle. Not only had Aunt Petunia given him an extravagantly long list of chores, but she had also let Dudley beat Harry up when he had accidentally let one of the dishes slip out of his hands. Harry was also pretty sure that both his ribs and his right eye would bruise overnight, as would his fingers. Dudley had somehow managed to rap his hard Smeltings stick on his cousin's knuckles, which was why the much shorter teenager had dropped the plate onto the kitchen floor in the first place.

_Merlin. I hate this place._

Opening his door, Harry went straight to his not-so-clean bed, and flopped down onto the little mattress, making it wheeze out air, and it's springs groan softly. He took out the Animagus book from under the bedcover, as he heard his bedroom door being locked, and flipped to the book marked page, reading on.

Shifting to a sitting position atop his bed, Harry put the blue and gold book aside, and mentally went over the instructions one last time. Closing his eyes, he concentrated.

_He was in front of the black wolf again, it's green eyes sparkling with mischief and it's tail raised high. It sat, and watched the boy in front of it. _

_"Who are you?" The scruffy haired child in front of the large wolf asked, clearly unsure of what to do. _

_Unnatural silence reigned the magically summery scene, the grass waving gently in the breeze. The boy's voice sounded odd and hollow, dispersing easily around the animal and into the crystal blue sky_

_"You." Was the echoing answer the boy received. Power filled the air, giving the boy a sense of overwhelming awe._

_He blinked. _

_A winged lion stood close to the dark pair, and a different sort of voice was heard in the air, joining the first._

_"We are you, child._

_Your coming awaited, _

_Child._

_The time to move,_

_Has come." _

_As suddenly as the mysterious voices had started, they stopped, leaving the black haired boy with a deep sense of foreboding. He shivered, but his closed eyes flew open when a warm glow encompassed him._

_Harry felt his body dissolve, if that was the right word for the sensation he was feeling. Emotions flooded him; he was blind and deaf to what was happening, knowing only that he existed, somehow._

_And then all went black._

* * *

Harry's eyes fluttered open, his mind dimly registering that he was lying on his bed, he looked at the alarm clock on his desk, and his last fuzzy thought, was that he had turned sixteen. He smiled, drowsily checked under his pillow that his wand was there, and, still grasping it, fell into an exhausted slumber.

_I.. did.. it. _

A flash of white enveloped the boy, and he was no more.


	4. Of a New People and a Forest

Chapter 3 - Of A New People and a Forest

Birds chirped here and there, adding to the lively but peaceful atmosphere that reigned throughout the bright green clearing. Today, for most people was going to be just the same as yesterday: beasts were going out to gather food, some stocking up for the upcoming winter, others just out of daily necessity. People were carrying out the tasks they did everyday, going to work, and coming back. Nothing much was out of place, excepting the occasional lost car-keys, or the misplaced quill a person just couldn't seem to find. That however, was a natural occurrence that happened to everyone all of the time.

What _was_ out of place that lively summers morn', was the thing that disturbed one sole robin's meticulous food search. A small from lay, curled up in the gnarled roots of an ancient oak, seemingly sleeping in the brightly lit forest clearing, full of greenery and all sorts of animals and insects. Curious, the tiny beast fluttered downwards, landed on the grass, and hopped towards the prone form of the creature, (the robin having no knowledge of what the sleeping being was,) and cheeped, tilting its brown feathered head as if to hear something extra quiet, before whipping up and looking around frantically for a sign of danger.

A sudden "Crack" sounded, and the dry splintering of tree branches was heard, startling the tiny robin into flight, it's wings beating frantically, straining to reach the sky above the green treetops. A blur of tawny brown shot through the forests trees, zigzagging across a small patch of tall grass, and then squirming under a low laying mossy log, the little animal barely fitting through, it's tawny paws scrabbling in the dirt. The whites of the brown hare's eyes could be seen, and, to other beasts with more sensitive noses its acrid fear could clearly be smelt on the breeze.

The heavy panting of a larger animal was heard soon after, and the hunt was on. Dashing between skinny birches and wide oaks, heavy, black-furred paws pounded the leafy ground, particles of dirt kicked up behind. A pause in the beat as an obstacle was jumped, before the telltale thump of a heavy landing, and the rhythmic patter of running continued at the same furious pace. A stray rock was dislodged and kicked up, striking a tall pine producing a low thump, not startling the predator in the least. The prey could hear its pursuer's pants as it gasped for air, still determinately straining forward at a breakneck pace.

The hare bounded spasmodically through trees with a speed seldom matched by it's many predators. The black canine's pace hastened as it went for the kill, it's ice blue eyes shining with excitement. Tensing, the great black creature put on a burst of speed and leapt onto the rabbit, swiftly breaking its spinal cord as it burst into the otherwise tranquil clearing, spraying dead leaves and dirt everywhere. The brown rabbit grasped firmly in between the large black mutt's chops, the dog slowed its pace as it tried to catch its breath. Dropping the rabbit in front of it, the dog sat down on its haunches and looked around, sniffing suspiciously. There was something else here, and that something smelt pretty human to the dog's nose.

Picking its catch up, the blue-eyed dog trotted across the small clearing, still tracking the scent. Not long after, the dog came across a small, curled up body of a child. One that had black hair, and that looked faintly familiar..

_Harry!_

* * *

Not so far away from the coniferous forest, in a rather large "village," amidst the bustling activity of various merchants and shop owners setting up their stands and stores for the day, one particular boy was sitting up in bed, in his tiny two-room-and-a-toilet, third storey flat, and muttering darkly about having to wake up so early to train. For what, you ask? 

Well, the kid, as much as his looks, age, and attire would dissuade you, had a job. He worked in a cell of three members, with his sensei, and was, to put it plainly; a ninja.

One, that wasn't very well awake, in any case...

The kid untangled himself from his cheap, dirty-white blankets, and with a look of a extreme intelligence, proceeded in ineffectively trying to get out of bed._ Finally _managing to stand up, he yawned, scratched an itch, and listening to the call of his hungered stomach, walked into the only other room of the house, crossed the "living room" area, and bee-lined straight towards the cupboard where he stashed his loot -ahem- instant ramen.

The boy opened the creaking cupboard and reminded himself that he should've gotten it fixed years ago. Eyeing his dwindling stack of instant ramen cups, the blonde also made a metal note to go out and buy some more instant ramen cups soon. They were important. Grabbing a random green coloured cup, the blonde set it on his small kitchen counter, grabbed his dented kettle and turned the tap on. Tapping his foot to an unsung beat, he listened to the water splash and swirl around the inside of the metal container, slowly filling it up and weighing it down. He turned the tap off and looked inside. Satisfied, the boy plugged the kettle in, and clicked the round, metal-and-plastic top into place. He opened the ramen and it's flavouring packets, -pouring them in- pulled out a clean-looking pair of chopsticks from a not-so-clean, wooden pot by the cheap metal sink, set them down besides the ramen, found an uncluttered, cleanish spot on the floor, knelt, and began to do pushups.

By the time the lad had finished his one hundred and ninety-third push up, the kettle was whistling a merry one-note tune, indicating that the boy's hot water was at a ready temperature. Standing up, he took a few breaths to slow his slightly rapid breathing back down to normal.

Muttering his usual "Itadakimasu." to himself, the short blonde pulled one of the two chairs in the household out from under the kitchen table, sat down heavily, hearing the cheap wooden joints whine at his weight. He tore the rest of the plastic flap covering the top of his ramen cup off, and started eating. He hoped that today would go better than the day before last, when he and his team had had to rescue Mrs Shijimi's cat, Tiger again from the woods surrounding Konohagakure. Somehow, the undersized animal had managed to slip out of the village. _Again._

It really was a miracle that the "_little shit_" as the boy liked to call the evasive cat, hadn't gotten eaten by a big, wild dog or something of the sort. Finishing the last of his ramen, the youth stood up, tossed his cup into the bin bag that lay overflowing next to the door, and ambled back to his room in search of some clean clothes.

When he was dressed and freshened up, one glance at his beaten up alarm clock told the boy that it was already past time to leave his flat. Not bothering to clean up further after his meal, he unhooked his key-on-a-mangled-string from the hook next to the doorframe, stepped outside, and closed the door, making sure that he locked his flat properly. The last time he hadn't locked it, some asshole from the village had managed to slip a skunk inside: his house had smelt horrible for weeks after. He snorted, unamused. This was one experiment he wasn't going to redo for sure!

Deciding to take the quick way to the red, wooden bridge where he and his teammates met every morning, the blue-eyed blonde readied himself, and took a running start off the roof.

* * *

The boy stopped jumping from tree branch to tree branch, nearly skidding off of the one he was aimed for, his attention upon the a strangely dressed person that appeared to be unconscious, and a big black dog beneath his tree, watching at what they were doing. 

_Who on earth are they?_

The blonde made sure that they wouldn't be able to see him if any one of the two randomly looked in his direction, settled down, and waited. Although he had debated leaving to get his sensei, he doubted that the two strangers would still be there when he got back. Of course, that was assuming that they were enemies to his village. It was his duty to protect Konohagakure, and of course, he had firmly sworn to do so.

Re-directing his attention back to the black mutt and the unconscious boy, the young ninja noted that the kid looked about the same age as himself. He shifted his position slightly, his sky-blue eyes never leaving the pair.

The black dog tossed a brown object that appeared to be a dead rabbit aside. _Prob'ly a broken neck.. _The boy hidden in the tree mused.

With a slight popping sound that nearly made the blonde fall out of his tree branch, the boy realized that the dog had turned into a man! The orange-clothed boys eyes widened and his jaw hung loose, reflecting his surprise. Never in his short life had he witnessed any type of _henge no jutsu _that didn't require any sort of hand seals or charka, and that didn't end with a lot of smoke around the user. When the dog-man had released the _henge_ the confused ninja hadn't felt any of the person's chakra releasing and dissipating. Perhaps this was a more advanced version, or even a bloodline ability.

_I'll look into that another day._

Frowning, the blonde watched as the dark haired dog-man searched through his pockets for something. He tensed, reaching towards his shuriken pouch, but relaxed almost immediately when he saw the stranger pull out a harmless looking stick of wood, almost snickering out loud at the irony of the situation. Here he was, spying on some supposedly "enemy shinobi," and the dog-turned-man whips out a dark, blunt, absolutely ridiculous twig made from a dark coloured wood.

_What a weapon. _He thought sarcastically._ I mean sure, if the guy stabs someone hard enough it would be enough to hurt, but pah! So stupid-looking! Plain useless!_

His smile faded from his face and he tilted his head, trying to hear what the strangely dressed, dirty old man was muttering under his breath. It definitely sounded like a weird, foreign code-language of somesorts. He frowned, wracking his head for an explanation to the stranger's actions, but nothing came to mind.

A swish and a flick of the stick-thing, a muttered word, and the blonde saw the boy lying opposite from the dog-man awake. And none too gently too..

The black-haired, vivid green eyed boy slowly sat up, and felt around the grassy ground for something, not really noticing the dog-man's presence, so immersed in the sleepy daze of being woken up too soon.

The dog-man sat in the same spot in front of the child, muscles tensed, as if he was anticipating something big. As it turned out, he was…

In the space of an instant, once the boy-who-had-just-woken-up had carefully placed on his nose -what the ninja in the tree recognized as- a pair of black glasses, he seemed to realize how foreign his surroundings were, and pulled out another of those strange stick-things too. A small noise from the dog-man made the kid jump, and whip around, still clutching his apparently precious stick. More words in that strange, garbled, guttural language were exchanged, this time at a louder volume: it appeared that the youngest of the pair below was threatening the dog-man with the stick-thing.

Meanwhile, the ninja up above in the tree was getting steadily more and more confused at the strangers bewildering behaviour, when, to top off all surprises, the boy froze, cried out something joyfully, and threw himself at the dog-man, hugging him and sobbing into his shoulders.

Now, the blonde ninja decided was as good a time as any to go and meet up with this teammates and sensei. Although the two below obviously weren't ninjas, (otherwise they would have noticed his presence,) they still could be dangerous. Whoever had heard of boys with such violent mood swings?

No sound was heard by the foreigners as the blonde leapt off his tree branch, hurrying away to find reinforcements.

* * *

**_Sensei_** - Teacher 

**_Ramen_** - Japanese noodles. (Very good!)

**_Instant Ramen_** - Ramen, but in a pot. To eat, you tear of the top half way, add the flavouring packets to the dried noodles, pour in hot water, close the top, (usually putting your chopsticks on top of the flap) and leave the mixture to sit for three to five minutes. It is a lot cheaper than the real stuff.

**_Itadakimasu_** - Let's eat. (Japanese.)

**_Konohagakure no Sato_ **- Village hidden within the leaves, a ninja village.

**_Henge no Jutsu_ **- An illusion skill used to mislead enemy ninja by looking like another person, most likely an ally. Usually creates smoke around the one using or releasing it.

**_"-no jutsu" _**- Suffix to any ninja attack. E.g. Henge no jutsu. Literally translated as "skill of-"

**_Hand seals_** - Different hand shapes based on animals used to gather charka powered attacks.

**_Chakra_** - Literally translated as "Power." Is used in various forms of ninja attacks. (My thanks to AnkleBiter for the correction!)

**_Bloodline ability_ **- A rare ninja ability carried through DNA, hence the name "bloodline." Different abilities exist between different ninja clans.

**_Shuriken_ **- Ninja throwing stars, basic equipment commonly carried in the "Shuriken pouch," which most ninjas, advanced or not, possess.

**_Shinobi_** - Male ninja/ ninja in general. (Dictionary: stealing (into), spy, sneak thief.)


	5. Of a Meeting and New Aquaintances

Chapter 4 - Of a meeting and new acquaintances

It was not without a jolt that the wizarding world's hero was pulled out of a pleasant dream of endless blue skies and Quidditch, and was abruptly awoken. Sitting up slowly, his eyes still squinted from the morning sunlight Harry winced at the stabbing soreness of his complaining muscles. What on earth had he done to end up so sore? Hurriedly pushing the throbbing pain to the back of his mind, he looked around and above himself through eyes so narrow they were nearly shut, in a rather hopeless effort to determined where he was through the heavily blurred haze that was his surroundings. Searching through the dewy grass somewhat hurriedly, as he realized that he was outside somewhere, his nimble fingers feeling for his black, steel-rimmed spectacles, panic slowly mounting. If caught in the crossfire of a battle between Death Eaters, he would've been as good as dead, and so wasn't found wanting for such a situation to arise.

Harry sighed in relief as his fingers bumped into the glass lens of his specs. _Safe.. Or not so…_

Fumbling a bit when he picked the damp metal frames, he first wiped the lenses dry and then put the glasses on his nose, pushing them back into a comfortable position. Harry blinked as his eyes adjusted, and then quickly readied his faithful holly and phoenix feather wand, which had been clenched tight in his cramped hand all along, before looking around at his surroundings once more, frowning at the strange shrubs and trees growing before him. Although the vegetation definitely didn't look like what he was used to seeing in England, Harry realized that they did have a similar look to a combination of both the Forbidden Forest, the Surrey woods, and something else. He blinked, confused. Judging his surroundings, he wouldn't be able to get a clear idea of where he was.

_Ugh. I'm in the middle of nowhere with no idea what so ever of where my current position is. Fortunately, I still have my wand and glasses. _

A small, although unexpected noise on his left made him start and Harry whipped around, his wand at the ready and clutched tightly in his hand...

* * *

His jaw went slack and his emerald eyes opened wide at the person crouching before him. Just in time, Harry remembered to keep his fingers wrapped around his wand before he dropped it on the ground, and he forced his sluggish, frozen mind to think.

A black-haired, tall, blue-eyed man stood, or rather crouched next to him, one man that Harry had never though it possible to see again. It was the infamous Sirius Black, and he appeared to be in a rather poor state, still wearing the clothing that Harry had last seen him in- at the Ministry of Magic.

"W-who… W-what..." his voice died off, at loss for words.

The man spoke hesitantly. "Harry- "

Only to be cut off by a suddenly trembling boy, green eyes flashing not with fear, but with anger, his wand still aimed at the man's heart. "How dare you." Harry seethed, "You dare... Even after he died!"

The man looked at Harry, his ice-blue eyes reflecting genuine confusion at the child's anger. "Died? Harry, what are you going on about..." he frowned, truly perplexed.

This time, it was Harry's turn to be stunned speechless. The man hadn't known at all, and what was more, didn't seem to remember anything about what events had happened in the wizarding world. It was definitely time for Harry to start asking the "impostor" questions.

"Um. Okay..." he frowned, "What's the last thing you remember from back home? And what the hell are you doing here? Never mind that, where in hell is here!" His voice was steadily rising in volume, fuelled by the panic and frustration growing in his chest. He ran a hand through his damp, tangled hair in a hopeless attempt to distract himself from the current situation.

The black-haired man shifted uncomfortably in his crouched position, and opened his mouth slowly, still looking very puzzled and shaken up himself. "I..." He seemed to be having trouble putting the panic of thoughts flitting through his head together.

Harry's mind was whirling with all of the things happening to him. Sirius dieing, the rest of the episode at the Department of Mysteries, going back "home" to the Dursley's house, teaching himself to become an animagus, waking up here... _Good thing I still had my wand. _In his opinion, even that was a _little_ too much for a sixteen-year-old teenager destined to save the wizarding world.

_Better be careful..._

"I was in Ministry of Magic, in the Department of Mysteries… Fighting my cousin, Bellatrix…" He paused, and took a slow breath, before starting his story up again. "She was angry... Fired a stunner at me, and then..." The man shivered, as if reliving something. "Darkness, and lots of cold... Screaming…" His eyes looked truly haunted, like when Harry had first seen him lost in memories of Azkaban in his third year at Hogwarts.

Harry froze. He recognized that look in the man's eyes, and knew that this was no impostor or Death Eater.

This was-

"Sirius!"

The boy threw himself at the older man, making his godfather loose his balance and land roughly on his rear, and into a nearby tree with an "Oof!" as the wind was knocked out of him. Harry enveloped Sirius in a hug, clinging to the man as if he were a lifeline, hot, salty tears running down his cheeks, sobs wracking his slim frame, crying for the first time in many weeks, letting the misery flow out of behind the emotional dam. The innocent convict hugged back, still puzzled, but overall glad to seen his godson again, safe and sound. He murmured soft consolations as he held the distraught boy close, trying to calm him down enough that he would be able to ask the boy questions.

Although it took a while for Harry to calm down, when he had stopped crying and sobbing, the boy then realized that he hadn't felt so cleansedand serene in a long, long while. As his tired eyes drooped shut, and he relaxed fully into his godfather's embrace, his last thought was:

_I hope Sirius doesn't mind..._

* * *

The tall man himself hadn't quite noticed the point in time when his godson had actually fallen asleep, so lost in his thoughts he had been, mulling over what the short boy had let slip in his angry -mostly one-sided- argument. Feeling a new weight on his leg, moving as little as possible, Sirius bent to reach the mellow brown holly wand that had slipped from his sleeping godson's hand. After having been stunned by his _tramp_ of a cousin, he had lost his own stolen wand. He would have to ask Harry about the battle at the Department of Mysteries, because apparently, the boy had known more than he did. Besides since when was he dead? Sirius was pretty sure that he felt completely alive, and who _was_ somebody else to judge him?

Absentmindedly, the escapee twirled the phoenix feather wand in his free hand, oblivious to his surroundings.

This in itself had turned out to be the biggest mistake the man could have made.

A whispered sleeping jutsu, a pushed pressure point later, and Sirius Black and Harry Potter knew no more.

* * *

A rough shove brought the sleeping Sirius back to reality, as he was none too gently deposited into someplace dark and cool-floored. Probably stone, he mused with a shiver. The whole atmosphere reminded him of Azkaban. A low groan next to him echoed the once-again prisoner's feelings, as he reached to massage his mistreated back. Or at least, tried to, stopping when he realized that his hands were held behind his back. He then cracked his sleepy eye open, blearily looking around his new jail-cell, taking in the grey stone walls and floors, and the ventilation shaft in the upper right corner, his eyes stopping on the smaller form of a child. He squinted, and with a sigh of relief, saw that his godson looked fine and un-injured. Clearing his dry throat, Sirius half-croaked, "Harry…"

Said boy rolled over and sat up, wincing at the movement, his bruised ribs and raw wrists, shackled in metal handcuffs, complained. Gently nudging his glasses back up his nose with his shoulder, Harry looked around at his surroundings, briefly smiling at his godfather. There were no doors or windows in this small room, which was barely big enough for two people not to feel cramped in. There weren't any other items in the cell except perhaps the constantly whirring ventilation shaft, so Harry though it safe enough to deduct that this door-less room was only a holding-cell for prisoners. Thankfully, he hadn't been in prison much, and Sirius was pretty much only experienced in magical cells...

_I'm really making this sound like a sort of job expertise, knowing what kind of cells one might reside in… _Inwardly, Harry snorted, but this particular one admittedly really did look muggle.

He turned back to his godfather, and opened his own mouth, managing to formulate his thoughts into one question.

"So. What's next?"

* * *

**_Pressure Points _**- Points around the human body that are used to augment or reduce the never-stopping flow of charka. Even without the bloodline ability "Byakugan," with the knowledge of it's position, pressing a certain point(s) will render a person unconscious.

**_Byakugan _**- The bloodline ability of the Hyuuga clan of Konoha. Has a vision of almost 360 degrees around the user, save for one weak point located at the upper back/lower neck, aligned with the spinal cord. Also allows the user to detect all movement within a certain radius of him/her, depending on the level of skill.


	6. Of a Prisoner's Woes and Unsure Allies

Chapter 5 - Of a prisoner's woes and unsure allies

_He turned back to his godfather, and opened his own mouth, managing to formulate his thoughts into one question._

_"So. What's next?"_

* * *

It was all Sirius could do to keep himself from rudely snorting at his godson's evident innocence. The experienced convict and once-Azkaban-resident knew what came next, and both of the two possible options weren't good. The mirthless smile on his face as he told the boy facing him was a good indicator of what came next "Two options Harry." He rasped, sounding like his old bedraggled self again, "Our 'keepers' come in to interrogate us, or, they give us the easy way out and come in to… Ahem... How to say this? Take care of the business." 

Although the poor boy was expecting the same sort of reply, his face still visibly paled in the dimly lit prison cell. Averting his eyes from his godfather's face, Harry nodded stiffly, his cat-like curiosity having throughoutly been run over flat. He was definitely rooting for the first option, because even though he had seen what Voldemort's merciless torturing could result as, this place seemed decidedly muggle, and Harry was pretty sure that perhaps other than trespassing, Sirius and he were guilty of nothing. Besides, the fifteen-year-old definitely didn't want to die any time soon.

Ignoring the clinking of the metal handcuffs, Harry shuffled back into the wall opposite Sirius', and made himself as comfortable as he could in such a place. Resting his back against the grey concrete wall without squashing his hands any further, he let his head rest against the cold, concrete-like material, and begun to slow his breathing down, following the animagus book's instructions and readying himself for a long session of meditating.

Sirius curiously watched his godson's actions, still wincing slightly at his bitter choice of phrasing when he had answered his godson's questions. The boy didn't need any more worries, but then that would have meant lying to him, and Sirius hated when people did that to him, so why do it to Harry? Although in various situations a little white lie couldn't hurt anyone, especially a child too young to understand, one or two could amass to a pile of hundreds… And besides, as much as it hurt for Sirius to admit to himself that his godson was hardly the child that he was supposed to be, it was the blunt truth, and one he strived to accept. Oh how life was hard...

Sirius barely noticed when his thoughts had started to become foggier and disjointed, as the soft whirring of the ventilation and his godson's regular breathing lulled him to a soft, shadowy sleep.

* * *

_**Slam!**_

Harry was jolted out of his quiet, meditative state by a gust of chilly air, and a bright light flashing through the opening two tall shadows were standing in, nearly making the boy jump out of his skin. A raspy yelp was heard from his newly awakened godfather, and a muffled thump as the poor man toppled over, obviously having forgotten that his hands were still handcuffed.

Harry winced at the sound of his godfather's fall as he screwed his eyes shut and looked away from the doorway. _Must've hurt… _Even with his eyes closed at first, the boy had still felt the stinging pain of having a light turned on suddenly. His sudden start badly jarred his already sore wrists. Quiet footsteps were heard crossing the small "room," before a half blind Harry was roughly yanked to his feet and he was bodily dragged out of the cell, and into the bright, sunlit, corridor adjacent to the holding cell. Apparently it was walk or be dragged, and so, still blinking tears out of his eyes, Harry stumbled on his sleepy legs, his godfather right behind him, still trying to regain his footing on the waxed, wooden flooring.

The person dragging Harry along wore a sweeping black cloak, it's design and movement ironically reminding the young man of Professor Snape, so alike their soundless glides were. Daring to look up, he spotted a white, patterned mask, made of some unknown material, covering all of wearer's face. The mask appeared to be depicting the face of some sort of a dog, or a cat; it was hard to tell. Although the back of the person's head was visible, Harry couldn't tell much about them, apart from the fact that they possessed sleek, long, black hair. _Apparently well kept. _The shapeless black outfit didn't give any further idea as to who this strangely dressed person was.

All the while Harry's thoughts had been wondering afar, the scruffy boy had been dragged through a maze or corridors, all floored with wood, and all having white concrete walls. Although there wasn't much change from one hallway to another, several wooden doors had been spotted along the way, along with the smallish glass windows. Things didn't look magical at all, (not even one tiny painting in sight.) and apart from the strange "worn in" overall look of the place, both prisoners still didn't have a clue where they were.

The guards took an abrupt turn to the right, and stepped into a slightly larger corridor nearly making Sirius crash into Harry's back, the quartet coming face to face with a large paper and wood framed panel. Still gripping Harry tightly, the foremost stranger reached out to the right side of the door, and sliding his fingers into a notch evidently made for such a purpose, slid the paper-and-wood panel to his left. The purpose of the plain contraption was obvious to Harry now: a door.

All four stepped quietly into the spacious inside beyond the bizarre door, and the two guards, surprising Harry, bowed. A short, sharp voice barked out a command, as the two masked persons let the prisoners go and, still silently, went to stand at attention by the door. All of these foreign procedures had Harry's head quite positively spinning with questions, along with a rakish something that seemed to be taking pleasure in bouncing around his stomach. He swallowed, his shoulders and back stiff and tense with anxiety, noting absently that his hands were still handcuffed. Another person, this time obviously a man, stood from his battered desk, and seemed to be inspecting his prisoners.

The man was dressed in a high collar, navy blue jacket, both trousers and shirt that had two pockets on the front. He wore two open-toed sandals, and His tunic-like shirt was tied down with a thick leather belt. A bizarre sort of headscarf with a metal plate positioned directly across the man's forehead, the metal plate carved with a strange swirly marking. The man also had two deep scars running down his face, the longest starting under the headscarf, and tracing a path down the man's bony cheek, stopping just above his square chin. Harry shivered, his spine tingling.

Things weren't looking good at all…

The tall, very much frightening stranger approached Harry and Sirius slowly, the soles of his navy blue sandals not making hardly any noise. Harry was very much feeling like the deer in front of the tiger, as the man glared at the pair, still not speaking a word, a predatorial gleam shining dangerously in his shadowed eyes. Slowly his thin lips opened, and he seemed to hesitate whether to start speaking, the torturous silence hanging heavy in the enclosed space of the office. Harry was sure that their "interrogator" was doing it on purpose, just to make him nervous. Actually, this man also reminded Harry of Snape, the cocky bastard. He dearly hoped that the people wherever he was weren't all like that...

Finally the strangely dressed man spoke, making Harry, who had drifted off into space, start and snap to attention, only to have his brows knot together at the strange tongue that the man was speaking in. Although the man spoke in a sharp, gruff voice, the language he talked in was flowing, almost reminding Harry of a river. Dragging his once again wandering thoughts back to reality, Harry wasn't happy to realize that he couldn't understand a word of what the interrogator was asking or talking about, or even reply properly. And, as far as Harry knew, neither did Sirius. Peeking at the man's puzzled face, Harry's fear was confirmed. Sirius didn't speak this particular tongue. _Crap._

This definitely wasn't his day.

* * *

The pair both ended up back in their jail cell, waking up to find the ventilation still whirring, and two throbbing headaches, among other things. Harry's intentions had been mistaken as an unwillingness to talk, and the boy had been viciously socked in his still healing right eye, (courtesy of Dudley) after his already tender ribs had been re-bruised... Sirius, on the other hand, had a very sore jawbone, and his wrist, judging from its persistent bursts of pain, had probably been sprained. The man had been forcefully restrained when the interrogator had started beating on his godson. Both weary prisoners sported lumps on their heads from the none-too-gentle treatment from the guards. 

Groaning pitifully, Harry lay still on the floor, still recovering from his third hopeless attempt at sitting up with his wrists shackled behind him. He would've given anything to see the mothering Madam Pomefry fuss over his ribs -the ones that he _really _hoped weren't broken. Sirius had awoken with a moan, and then had dizzily drifted back to sleep, probably unable to distinguish being awake from sleep through the pulsing headache. Harry prayed he wasn't in a worse condition than himself. Maybe saying something to the tall stranger back in the office might have helped, but Harry strongly doubted that would've done anything but make the already precarious situation worse. He could already feel the adventures of the day catching up to him, and Harry pushed his uncertainties away for later.

_Sleep first._

* * *

The next time that Harry awoke, was when his sensitive ears caught the distant sound of footsteps through the wall, nearing wherever the door was. A silence, and then the door silently swung open to once again reveal two people, still dressed in the black cloaks. These ones however, wore different masks than the previous guards, which was when Harry realized that the golden sunlight pooling around the small group was the pale rays of morning light. He must've slept the night through, but Harry couldn't be sure about that. Perhaps more, perhaps less… 

What was obviously a command was barked to the prisoners, but neither reacted, Harry having no clue what the cloaked stranger was asking, and Sirius still being out cold. The person on the right strode into the cell and grabbed the smaller boy by the scruff, dragging him off before Harry had time to protest. A dull thump and a loud yelp was once again heard from back in the prison. The first guard had probably kicked Sirius, Harry mused, stumbling after the one dragging him. He had learnt to wake up at the slightest noise of footsteps, the habit still ingrained in him from his earlier years at the Dursley's home, when he had slept in the cupboard under the stairs. Hearing Dudley's thumping footsteps thunder loudly down the wooden staircase meant that little Harry was late, and that he would be punished for not having breakfast prepared, usually a slap from Aunt Petunia.

Sirius was soon seen escorted around a sharp turn with the other guard sticking close to him. Harry winced as he saw how his godfather favoured his side. _Ouch…_

The quartet entered a secondary building, painted in slightly different colours, this one swarming with more of the cloaked people, all of them doing something different, Harry observed. Books and was it- scrolls? were strewn haphazardly on top of dented wooden desks, which appeared to be poorly treated. One of the messier ones even had a strange sort of knife with a looped handle impaled into it, right by a cheap plastic pencil pot that contained a few bamboo brushes, and a chewed up pencil or two. On another desk, papers overflowed from different coloured folders labelled in strange writing, a blond haired man frantically scribbling on another of these scrolls with a brush dripping black ink, his own white and red mask attached, but positioned to the side of his face. Harry supposed that it was hard to see with the thing on all of the time. Other cloaked people bustled around the large room, tidying and taking scrolls from the numerous wooden shelves that lined the beige walls. Some however, stood to the side and conversed in quiet, muffled voices, discussing something or another, their voices made even more undistinguishable by the masks they wore. At the far end of the large room, there were a group of masked people hanging up their black cloaks, obviously having been out doing some sort of job, the grey armour that they wore underneath spattered with both dirt and blood. Harry didn't want to imagine what the masked folk could have possibly been doing. Obviously these men (and perhaps a few women) were of the dangerous sort. Strangely dressed, but definitely dangerous.

Silently brushing by the muttering team of tired workers who were talking in their strange language, the guards shoved Harry and Sirius through the doorframe, and walked to the right of the junction, heading down yet another corridor, crossing two differently dressed people. The two were dressed in khaki green and navy blue, the green sleeveless jacket stuffed full of pockets. Judging from the looks that Sirius and Harry received, they must've looked quite a sight. Harry's right eye had swelled during his stay in the small cell, and now looked all the more like a ripe, blotchy plum.

They came to a stop in front of another paper-and-wood door, this time guarded by two other masked figures, who looked quite menacing. A few words were exchanged; one of the people guarding the door nodded curtly, and replied in a soft feminine voice. Harry was a little surprised. _So there were women._ The doors were opened wide, and Harry was dragged into the large, spacious room, Sirius close behind. The blue-eyed man appeared to be muttering insults in something that sounded like French. Harry smiled. _Always one to complain, eh Sirius._

A robed figure was seated with his back turned away from the newcomers, calmly puffing on a dark red coloured pipe. It looked vaguely like mahogany wood. The aged man had silver hair that stood in spikes all over his head, although remained cropped quite short. It reminded Harry of his own mop-top. The elderly man sat cross-legged on a red velvet pillow that rested on the sanded wooden flooring, one of a much better quality than in the pervious places that Harry had been dragged to. One gnarled hand rested on the silver-haired man's knee, and the other held a tan brown paintbrush, slowly drawing lazy lines painted with a thick, black ink. The ink was absorbed quickly, and didn't run on the crisp, beige paper hanging from the wooden stand. A conical hat rested upon the floor to the right of the old man. The rest of the room wasn't furnished, and in the far right corner, two huge sealed clay pots stood, perhaps as tall as a man's waist. Several different coloured scrolls stood against the wooden wall, and a line of drying paintings hung across the room, clipped to a well-used string. A few other completed paintings of black ink hung from the wall opposite Harry, and a pile of smaller scrolls sat below the paintings. The half of the room that the painter sat in was a raised platform, only a step above the level the newcomers stood. Most of the platform itself was carpeted in a deep red that lay between a blood colour and a more vivid shade. Although the room was serene and peaceful, the man painting seemed to radiate an aura of calm and power.

Having satisfied his curiosity, Harry shot Sirius a look, unsure of what was going to happen next. His godfather wasn't given time to reply, as the guard holding him spoke up.

"Sarutobi-sama!" The man announced importantly -though without shouting- and bowed low. The older man painting appeared to be his superior. Without turning around, the silver-haired man set down his bamboo paintbrush, careful not to spill anything, and stood up slowly, grabbing his conical hat in the process. His aged hands smoothed the wrinkles out of his long white and red robes, and he set the hat on his grey hair with a soft flumph. He turned around, facing his visitors. Looking up, the old man noted that the masked men had two beaten up people with him, one boy, and an older man, both with dark hair. He dismissed both guards with a silent nod of his head, and turned his attention to the newcomers.

Harry was looking at his feet, absently noting that he wasn't wearing one of his socks. His main worry however, was whether this apparently highly ranked man would be able to speak English, or still that same, foreign language. _I just hope that he will be able to understand us at least a little. _

* * *

Sarutobi, the Third Hokage of Konohagakure, was currently, (although his face remained blank) puzzling out a problem in his head. At seven forty-three exactly yesterday morning, Kakashi had notified him that there were two suspect individuals in the woods close to where the Jounin trained his Genin team. The man had ordered a small patrol of Anbu to be sent out to investigate, and the three men had returned unharmed, informing the old Hokage that the two suspects had been put into a cell until further notice. That afternoon, his most trusted interrogator and leader of that particular division had informed him that neither of the strangers had answered any questions, nor had appeared to understand anything of what had been spoken. All of this had quite shocked the aged leader, as he had never heard of a completely different language being spoken in the different ninja villages of the continent. Perhaps a different variation of a dialect, yes, but never a completely different language. It had also been considered that the two could have been deaf or mute or both, but that possibility was proved false, judging from the taller of the two stranger's muttering. This was indeed an enigma. 

Frowning, he puzzled over the mystery, getting lost in his thoughts the way an old man does, until a soft voice pulled him rather abruptly from his mental ramblings.

"Sir?" It had been the jade-eyed boy speaking this time, and he had also startled his companion. "Do you speak English?" he asked in a shaky voice.

His brows dug in deeper, as he wracked his memory for a small clue of whatever language the boy was speaking. And then it came to him…

"Aahh. So you speak one of the Lost Tongues…" The man spoke in a gravely voice, his English heavily accented, making his words sound slurred. He had never actually heard the language being spoken.

The man with the purple-bruised jaw and the blue eyes' head whipped up to look at the elder man.

"Lost Tongues!"

* * *

A panicked Harry's eyes widened as he realized the extent of the situation. _Where the hell am I... _ **

* * *

**

**_"-Sama"_** - A suffix to a person's name. The Japanese equivalent to "Lord-" or someone highly respected.

**_Hokage _**- The strongest leader of the Leaf village, and also the strongest. When the current Hokage dies, another takes his place, etc. The Hokage in the story timeline is Sarutobi, the third of his line. (Shodaime- the first, Nidaime- the second, Sandaime- the third, Yondaime- the fourth, Godaime- the fifth, etc.)

**_Genin _**- A rank in the ninja world. Genin is the lowest paying rank; what an academy student becomes after graduation. Such ninjas are still considered apprentices, and are lead by a Jounin.

**_Academy Student _**- Students of the ninja academy. (Students don't get paid.)

**_Chûnin _**- The middle, more average rank of ninja. Most are assigned to the average level missions, (Level D and C, occasionally B.) but get paid higher than Genin. They also work at the village's ninja academy. Chûnin are expected to be responsible enough to be able to lead their own team in missions. Their uniform consists of navy blue bottoms, a navy blue long sleeved shirt, and a dark leafy green jacket with many scroll pockets. Testing is required to become a Chûnin.

**_Jônin _**- A more experienced ninja. Some Jônin are assigned to teach a cell (team) of three Genin. Jounin wear the same uniform as Chûnin. These ninja take on the more advanced missions. (Levels B and A) Testing is required to become a Jônin.

**_Anbu _**- A highly advanced field of ninjas, wearing a black and silver uniform, sometimes with black capes. These ninjas cover with their faces with white (with painted red designs) masks. These have different animal designs on them. Some examples of the designs would be cat, weasel, fox, toad, etc. They patrol the country and are also sent out on missions of the highest rank, (Level A and above.) and to retrieve missing Nins.

**_Missing Ninjas _**- Ninjas that have deserted their village/done an unforgivable crime, or both. The highest class of missing Nins are S class. This can also be said as "missing-Nins"


	7. Of Second Chances and Orange Books

Chapter 6 - Of Second Chances and Orange Books.

_A panicked Harry's eyes widened as he realized the extent of the situation. Where the hell am I... _

* * *

The elderly man must've seen the two foreigners jaws hanging open and chuckled, much to Harry's annoyance.

_Galloping Gorgons! _

He heard a thump besides him, and barely even registered Sirius sitting down heavily on the smooth, wooden flooring, looking just as stunned as he felt. Hell, he could barely even string two coherent words together, so wisely remained silent, thankful that his knees had stayed locked in place, even though the rest of his legs felt like overcooked noodles. There so many questions that were spinning through Harry's stunned mind that he didn't dare speak, for fear of ending up a stuttering mess. It would've seemed rather undignified, but when had The-Boy-Who-Lived ever thought about his dignity?

With a soft swirl of his red and white cloak, the man -Sarutobi, Harry believed he was called- turned away from the pair of former prisoners, and barked out yet another word of that foreign language. It sounded like an order. Both Sirius and Harry jumped at the sudden sound, and whirled around when they heard the door they had entered through slide open again. Another of those masked people with a black hooded cloak stepped into the room, stopping to bow deeply at the doorframe. He seemed to be waiting for orders, ones that Sarutobi immediately told to him. Once the venerable man had finished speaking, he turned to Harry and Sirius, who had both used the time to calm down.

"You will be taken to temporary lodging." he sounded as if he wouldn't tolerate arguments, and fortunately (or unfortunately) Harry and Sirius were in no position to suggest something else. They didn't even know the language! The fact that two strangers not speaking a word of the local language appearing rather mysteriously was indeed a _big_ event, and not one to ignore. "I will send for someone to take you to the location of a meeting we will be having in order to discuss what will happen to you and the boy. Is this satisfactory?"

The man hadn't elaborated further on who the "we" was, but Harry had an inkling that these would be some more high-ranking officials. Both Harry and Sirius nodded to Sarutobi, and dismissed the trio with a nod. The guard bowed once more, and indicated that the rather dazed Harry and his godfather were to follow.

* * *

A few hours later the now refreshed pair were being led from a makeshift waiting room, to the location of the fate-deciding meeting. Harry felt as if he were surely about to explode. Questions were demanding to be asked, and his now revived cat-like curiosity seemed to have doubled it's efforts.

_Perhaps it is excited at another chance at life.. _Harry mused. After all, it is a well-known superstition that cats have quite a few lives at their disposition, and more than enough curiosity to get them neck deep in trouble.

A small smile seemed to unfreeze Harry's tense features, but it was quickly wiped away as he saw a dull, brown door looming up ahead, down the gloomy looking corridor. The sun outside was slowly reaching halfway to its highest position at noon, rising from the horizon.

Although the duo's present guard didn't seem any talkative than the others, he did act dumber (if one may say so,) and was ignoring Harry and Sirius, just to read this curious, orange, pocket sized book. A navy blue cloth masked the lower half of his face, and the strange metal headband Harry had seen on almost all of the guards was tilted, positioned so that it covered the man's left eye. He also wore slightly different clothing than that of the masked guards. A sleeveless jacked covered his upper body, and he wore node script navy blue pants with the same open toed sandals as the masked people. A small pouch hung at his waist, making Harry wonder what was kept inside. Aside from the small shoe noises and the occasional giggle of the grey-haired guard, no other noises were heard but the muffled on goings of the city life outside the building. The guard's book must've been funny.

When the trio stopped in front of the imposing door, the still reading guard knocked lightly and opened it, waiting that both Harry and Sirius were inside the room before closing it silently behind them all. Sirius politely nodded his thanks to the man, before turning to face the rest of the room. A large round table was set up in the middle, with nine, maybe ten people sitting around. All of them looked very impressive, and the ominous silence present in the room was easily palpable, making Harry feel slightly claustrophobic.

There was one man in particular who caught young Harry's eye. Although there was nothing special about his clothing or his general look, besides the man's long, silky black hair that resembled Lucius Malfoy's (a little longer and neatly tied back,) the one thing that really stood, were his white eyes. Although his face showed Harry no external expression, the man's eyes made him shiver. They seemed like ice, but deadlier. Next to him, there was a rather beefy person, with chubby cheeks to match, but despite his appearance, there was nothing funny about him either. Or any other person in the room, for the matter.

_What a chilly audience…_ Harry thought.

The Old man- whom Harry had heard called a multitude of different names- stood up and motioned to Harry and Sirius to sit in the two empty seats on his left. He then turned to the grey-haired guard, (with a very displeased expression on his face, twitching eyebrow and all, Harry noted,) and started yelling at him furiously, spit and robes flying. And judging from the bored and annoyed looks of the other observants in the room including the grey-haired guard being yelled at, this was not a new thing.

Once the old man had finished his angry tirade, the younger whipped out of his pocked his little, orange book, and was gone in a whirl of leaves and smoke. Sarutobi massaged the bridge of his nose, muttered something, and sat down, nearly immediately focussing back to the more pressing matter.

The meeting had begun.

* * *

"You're LATE!" Two voices -one boy and one girl- shouted at a man.

This was in fact the very same person who had been given the task to accompany the two bewildered foreigners from the guest wing to the meeting room in the main administrative building, had arrived three hours late, _and_to the Hokage's disgust, had arrived reading his _revolting_, orange **pornography** **books**. The venerable man had almost blown his top when he had seen the lazy Jounin arriving to the scene, reading that paperback book, and not looking the least bit guilty. The Hokage also knew exactly what was printed inside those innocent looking orange covers, as did almost every other person attending the meeting.

" Um. I had to help save a kid who was trapped in a flaming building and my clothes got burnt, so I had to go change-" The man, had a notorious tendency to arrive late to any place he was supposed to be, and always had the most ridiculous, laughable excuses. Of course, these didn't sound very funny to either of the three teenagers fuming at him, having heard this kind of thing so often that they were fully prepared to rip their hair out- Yes! Even the girl!

"**LIAR!**" The pair screamed, at the end of their nerves.

The grey-haired man seemed to once again shrug the insult off, and calmly took his battered, orange paperback out of his pocket. "Now team, we'll be trying out a new training technique." He paused for suspense "Cleaning out the Konoha river!"

"Kakashi-sensei..." A high-pitched, whiny voice groaned.

Regardless of the ground of the training area the blonde boy sat down with a thump, completely disregarding what the dusty ground would do to his precious orange jumpsuit. After all, he only had three outfits, not counting his four other miscellaneous shirts, socks and undergarments. His face was shaped in an agonized expression that even the coldest mother would have trouble resisting. The proud boy was practically begging on his knees, but still his teacher didn't do or feel a thing. Kakashi's unfortunately high resistance to this sort of thing was at such extravagant levels because he was a pervert.

-And his nose was currently buried in his orange Icha Icha Paradise.

Peering at his blonde student, he book marked the page he was on with his thumb and pointed the way to the river, his uncovered eye upturned, expressing his happiness that day. "Your job Naruto, not mine."

"Aaaww. Kakashi-sensei…" Naruto begged, ignored even by his own teammates. This seemed to be a frequent occurrence. "Couldn't be do just an itty-bitty C-Class mission? I'm sure even Sakura wants to do one too..."

The pink-haired girl was unhappy at being (once again) dragged into the conversation. "Naruto. Just shut up and do what Sensei tells you." She huffily re-arranged her red outfit, flicked her hair, and turned towards the third and last Genin member of the team with an adoring look in her eyes. "Sasuke-kun doesn't want to be kept waiting."

Sasuke, the black-haired boy dressed in navy blue nondescript clothing, didn't even bother to reply properly.

A "Hn." which could have easily been a no, or him clearing his throat was the only answer, and was translated to an affirmative yes by Sakura, who then turned to Naruto and shoot him the I-was-right-and-you-aren't look.

Growling, the now standing Genin stood and started walking sullenly, followed by his teammates; the pink-haired Haruno Sakura and the silent Uchiha Sasuke. This recently formed trio of mismatched children's teamwork was disastrous, if awful at best when it came to missions. This currant clean-the-Konoha-river mission was going to be no different. Sakura, being the only girl, had a crush on only one of the males of the cell and it was only natural for the lucky one to be Sasuke. Sasuke himself didn't talk, apart from the occasional "Hn." He was as secretive and silent as they get.

It was up to Kakashi to force them to work together, and work he made them do.

Kakashi of course, sat on his spot-on-the-boulder, and meditated the out come of the chapter he was reading in his beloved Icha Icha Violence. This by his standards (only) was supervising his Genin team. Naruto could have drowned, and the Jounin would have remained on his boulder, still reading his little orange book.

His ruminations about Chapter Thirteen (titled "Ayame's Date") could have rambled a long time, if not for the questions that nagged him about the strangers. They, strangely enough didn't speak a word of Japanese. This alone was astonishing. The other conspicuous things were their clothing, looks, that they didn't seem to carry a single weapon, (concealed or not) and the fact that they walked so noisily spoke volumes: these people weren't ninjas. Perhaps merchants or some other remote profession, but what kind of merchant in Fire Country didn't speak Japanese?

* * *

**_Sarutobi_ - **The Third Hokage's name. He has other names that he goes by: Old Man, The Teacher Hokage, The Third, Hokage-sama, Sarutobi-sama. Etc. He is a kind, elderly man, and probably not the strongest of the village any more, but he is the Hidden Leaf's chosen leader. (The Fourth Hokage was killed defending the village, and so The Third had to take his old position back.)

**_The Fourth Hokage_** - The Fourth, The Fire Shadow, Yondaime. Not much is known about the deceased Fourth Hokage. The Fourth sacrificed his life to seal Kyuubi, the Nine Tailed fox demon into a child, and to save Hidden Leaf.

**_Hatake Kakashi _**- Ranked a Jônin Instructor, has previously been part of an Anbu team. A true genius. Possesses the Bloodline Ability Sharingan, hence the nickname "Copy-cat Kakashi." (Acquired) Loves to read his perverted orange book.

**_Icha Icha Paradise, Icha Icha Violence? _**- Come Come Paradise, Come Come Violence, and an unknown novel, are all part of a trilogy (or series) that is the favourite of many-a- Konoha Shinobi, Namely The Third, Kakashi.. The Cover of said books is orange, and they are pocket sized, for the readers' convenience. The author is the famous Sennin Jiraya, one perverted old man, but very powerful.

**_Sharingan _**- A Bloodline Abillity that allows the user to "see" his/her opponent's actions ahead of time, and also allows them to copy and learn taijutsu, ninjutsu, and genjutsu. Only the Uchiha Clan posses this ability, and Uchiha Sasuke is the last living Uchiha to remaining faithful to Konoha. His brother, Itachi is an S-Class Missing-Nin because of his slaughtering the Uchiha Clan. Hatake Kakashi's best friend (an Uchiha) gave him one of his eyeballs on his deathbed, and Kakashi possesses one Sharingan eye. (His left.) There are different "levels" when using the Sharingan: No "comma" marks, One, Two, Three. (I am unsure of the higher levels.)

**_Fire Country _**- An area of the "Naruto World" where Konohagakure is located.


	8. Of Disappearing Ninjas and Desk Ornam

Chapter 7 - Of Disappearing Ninjas and Desk Ornaments 

_Perhaps merchants or some other remote profession, but what kind of merchant in Fire Country didn't speak Japanese? _

* * *

The meeting had progressed very little since the grey haired ninja had disapparated out of the large conference room in a whirlwind of leaves and smoke. Having calmed himself, Sarutobi took a seat at the table, and in order not to confuse anyone, explained his side of the story: the two strangers appearing in one of the many clearings in the forest bordering Konoha, being spotted by a Genin and later being imprisoned by a team of Anbu. He also went over the rather strange fact that these two people didn't speak a word of Japanese, and that -unless this was all an elaborate act- they were completely and utterly lost.

"And as the council of the heads of the clans of Konoha, we have to decide what is to be done with the two strangers." the Hokage concluded, "Are there any suggestions?"

The answers ranged far and wide, even reaching the possibility of they being spies from Orochimaru, or of the Atatsuki. Thankfully, some of the more sensible folk suggested to put Harry and Sirius under guard, or at some other ninja's house. This suggestion received more nods and sounds of agreement than the others, so the Hokage took a moment to consider it, fingering his short, white goatee pensively.

Although he still held doubt about both strangers' identities- and this wasn't the easiest decision that he would be making in his long Hokage career- Sarutobi was relatively sure that going with his instincts and letting the two foreigners into his village would do no harm to anyone. He nodded to himself, satisfied with his decision: new blood would bring in new ideas, and if they weren't able to send the pair back to where they belonged, perhaps in time he might be able to gain two good shinobi for Konoha. This was indeed turning out to be a solution to his advantage, (in long terms) and as Hokage, Sarutobi could easily have the foreigners watched, therefore putting any insecurities that he and the head council could have to rest.

_Perfect._

"Having thought this over, I believe that temporarily taking the foreigners into the village would be the best solution to our dilemma." He paused at someone's displeased huff. "However, to settle any dissention anyone may have here, I will assign a Jounin rank ninja to the pair, and they will live with said jounin until decided otherwise. Are there any objections to this?"

Ibiki, the head of the Morino clan spoke up, apparently displeased with the Hokage's leniency. He was not the only one who didn't trust the foreigners. As head of the interrogation department, Ibiki Morino certainly had the right to be suspicious of the two strangely dressed individuals sitting at the same table as him.

"How do we know that they are trustworthy?" A handful of other ninjas nodded, agreeing with Ibiki.

"We don't, but I can assure you that they will be under surveillance." Sarutobi sighed, looking all like the tired old man he was. "I myself don't see any alternative to this, besides refusing to let them in the village, which in turn, would be as bad as throwing them to the dogs… If any of our enemies or neighbouring villages caught wind of Konoha rejecting two foreigners for no apparent reason, the result wouldn't be very pleasant for them _or_ us."

The clan heads nodded, agreeing with Sarutobi's reasoning. There really didn't seem to be any other better solution at the moment, and there wasn't really any time available to think the issue over..

"Which Jounin will be assigned to the foreigners? None our Ninjas know how to speak the same language as the foreigners." The Akimchi head asked.

The Hokage's brow furrowed as he puzzled the Akimchi clans leader's question over.

"It will have to be someone patient and kind, trustable and reliable, subtle too… We need this Jounin to be able to unobtrusively collect information about the foreigners and teach them about daily life in Konoha. It would do us and them no good to keep them under lock and key." Sarutobi mused aloud, fiddling with his short goatee again. "Asuma is out of the question, as is Kakashi. I wouldn't think Gai would work either, or Anko… Ibiki would likely terrorise them, and Mitate is more useful as Medic Nin. Kurenai, perhaps? I recall her being good with children, very patient, and there doesn't seem to be any problem with her team. Yes. Yuuhi Kurenai it is. Any disagreements?"

No one moved, or spoke up. It was unanimous.

"Very well. I will inform Kurenai as soon as possible." The Hokage stood up, the rest of the assembly following suit. "Dismissed!" He barked, ending the conference.

* * *

Harry and Sirius had silently watched the whole meeting happen, both unobtrusively and unsuccessfully trying to figure out what was going on. Although it was easy enough to get the gist of what was happening by the body language of the men sitting around the round, wooden table, understanding exactly what was being said wasn't easily accomplished for people who didn't even speak the same language.

Sirius was frustrated, and Harry was more nervous than before, his creative mind wondering about all of the awful things that these bizarre folk could think up. Torture and kill him, kick them out of wherever he and Sirius were now, imprison him forever, cook and eat him and Sirius for dinner… Harry looked away from the diplomatics and arguments, feeling slightly nauseated. This was not a good thought to continue to think about, even on an empty stomach!

Sirius however, was twiddling his thumbs nervously, frustrated at his lack of understanding about whatever situation he had dug him and Harry into. He didn't understand what the hell these people were blathering on about, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let any harm come to his godson. Even if it killed him! (Again?) Which brought him back to what Harry had mentioned about. What had happened in England between his being stunned by his _cousin_ and his arrival in weird people land? Had he died and somehow missed the path to heaven? Shaking himself out of his rambling thoughts, Sirius realized that the people previously sitting around the table had stood up, and currently seemed to be concluding the important matters that they had been called together to discuss. The important matters, incidentally being his and Harry's fate… (And his grumbling stomach.)

Harry stared at the men as they stood up, and one by one, began exiting the room in the most varied manners that he had ever seen. A couple employed the same smoke trick that the grey-haired man had used, only without the whirlwind of leaves, simply popping out of existence, and leaving smoke that smelt a lot like burnt sulphur behind. Harry wrinkled his nose at the bad smell. One or two men walked out of the door the normal way, and another by leaping out of the room's only window. The window itself must've been at least two storeys high.

_What the hell? _

One man however, stood up lazily and stretched, making it look as if he had been napping through the meeting, and seemed to phase out of existence by melting into the shadows on portion of the room's wall. Another seemed to blur out of the room. Perhaps going too fast, even for Harry's keen eye. To top it off, the strangest way of departing the room that Harry saw, was with the one man that looked an awful lot like Mad Eye Moody. (Without the missing chunk of nose and the magical eyeball.) Scar-face simply stood up, blinked, and walked calmly up the wall and through the conference room's ceiling. Harry was rendered speechless and gaping.

Seeing the jade-eyed boy's reaction to his trusted shinobi's methods of leaving the building, the Third Hokage chuckled, drawing both foreigners' attention back towards him.

"Would I be right to assume that neither of you have seen Shinobi do this before?" He asked, his dark brown eyes twinkling.

Harry nodded, still shocked. "Y-yeah…"

Sirius was intrigued at the word the Old Man had used to describe the men from the meeting. "Shi-no-bee? What does that mean?"

"It would be -I think- the equivalent of your word for ninja. We are a community of people who operate mostly through the use Shinobi, but this would be better discussed later. We have more important problems presently, and I should like to enlighten you about what has been decided of this situation."

This really got the two's attention. Sirius perked up immediately, forgetting about his previous worries and his empty stomach..

"I would prefer to discuss this matter in my office, away from prying ears." The Old man stood up, his chair creaking a relieved sigh. "If you could please follow me."

* * *

Once again, Harry found himself trailing behind his guide's flapping robes as they glided (surprisingly fast for and old man) through some other endless corridors in the white walled building. Left, right, second left, up a flight of stairs: one storey, two, three, (by then Harry was getting out of breath) four, through another sliding wood door, and into a round room filled with massive shelves that looked rather like the inside of bee hives. The place was littered with even more stray papers and scrolls than the previous place Sirius and Harry had been dragged through at the beginning of their stay with these people. Here there were people working at desks, but these workers weren't dressed in any sort of uniform, and their clothing looked semi-normal, or as normal as things got in Ninja Land. Brushes and other writing tools were busily scratching across paper, copying things out of thick, heavily bound manuscripts and scrolls by ink stained hands. Amidst all of the paperwork, books and other miscellaneous junk that cluttered the room, there were several massive manuscripts and scrolls resting around the place on equally large wooden stands, workers leaning over the aged pages and taking notes. One of the largest books was -if taken off its stand- as tall as a man's waist! Several times Harry had to be dragged by Sirius to keep him from falling behind in the bustle.

Only a few more turns and twists later, Harry, Sirius, and Sarutobi came upon a room that was much more clean and refined than the others they had visited. Although it wasn't carpeted, the room had nicer wooden floors and three windows that let the sunlight flood through. There were also two secretaries that were sitting quietly at their individual desks sorting papers, one of them muttering softly to herself as she sorted through hefty piles of paperwork. When the group entered, they both nodded respectfully to Sarutobi, quickly going back to work.

The Old Man Sarutobi walked straight to the end of the room, and opened a polished wood door, beckoning for Sirius and Harry to enter the room before sliding door closed. He motioned for the pair to take a seat and was about to sit himself at a finely crafted desk when he stopped, remember something important

"If you will excuse me for a moment. I have an important matter I must attend." Sarutobi excused himself, and with a whirl of his white robes, rushed off to attend said matter.

Looking bewildered, Harry methodically copied Sirius' actions: dazedly sitting down onto the comfortable chairs in front of the Old Man's desk. Harry assumed this was his office. It certainly looked different from what he remembered Dumbledore's round room at Hogwarts to be like. Sunlight poured through the two slightly dirty -but open- windows. Looking around the rectangular, wood-panelled room's walls, Harry spotted five portraits hanging on the wall behind his and Sirius' chairs. They were all framed with a simple wooden frame, two red tassels hanging down from each bottom corner. All of the subjects inspired a little awe and respect in Harry, even if he didn't know them. One of them was of Sarutobi, looking younger than he was now. Harry noticed that the only thing in common with the men in the photos, was the white robes they were all wearing over their clothing. And what strange clothing it was indeed!

A light coloured desk stood in front of the windows, a pile of papers was on top of the sturdy-looking furniture, fluttering with the breeze, trying to escape the paperweight that held them down. A few brushes, pens, and other writing implements were neatly tidied in a pencil pot. The paperweight itself was an artfully carved sculpture of a large toad reaching for a long, curved sword sheathed onto it's back. Harry didn't know what kind of material the paperweight was made of, but it was coloured a deep green and looked strangely alive. It seemed to glow from inside.

_Probably the sunlight playing tricks on my eyes.._ Harry thought. This had been one heck of a day, and one that surprisingly enough, (for a change) didn't include Voldemort and his Death Eaters. He jumped slightly as he heard Sirius sigh and shift in his seat next to him.

Turning towards his godfather, he asked "Sirius, you don't suppose you have the faintest idea about where we might be?"

The man rolled his eyes. "Not a clue. Kiddo, even if I had my wand, I don't think I would be able to pinpoint where the hell we are. I have a feeling this isn't England, though…"

Harry snorted at his godfather's sarcastic attitude, but stopped, remembering Sirius' comment about his wand. He froze. "Merlin! My wand! They've taken it too, haven't they.." He groaned and took off his glasses, rubbing the arch of his nose tiredly. His neck hurt like hell after his stay in that prison-room, and falling a sleep sitting upright without even a chair was something he hadn't done in a long while. Harry sighed and, finding a clean spot on one of Dudley's overlarge shirts, started cleaning his glasses as best as he could. He had been wearing this very same outfit for about two or so days, and he didn't think the smell would be too pleasant. For once he probably didn't smell much better than Sirius. "D'you think were ever going to get it back?"

Before Sirius could answer, the door the trio had originally entered the room through quietly opened, The Old Man striding briskly into the room holding a small cardboard box with things inside. He walked to his desk, and took a seat, placing the box directly in front of him.

"Now then." he addressed his (rather small) audience. "Here are perhaps some of your belongings. My Anbu team report that they found these either on or about your person. I apologise for the inconvenience, and hope these objects are in workable condition. If not, I am most willing to give you a full refund." Sarutobi didn't even sound sure what the _objects_ were, but he didn't falter, and held out the cardboard box to Harry and Sirius.

"My wand!" Harry exclaimed, quickly retrieving his precious holly wand. Sirius did the same with his stolen wand and pocketed it, not before making sure that his tattered robe pocket didn't have any holes. _Wouldn't want to be loosing that again. _

Sarutobi was indeed curious at the foreigners actions when they hurriedly took their polished, wooden sticks- wands? He hadn't the foggiest idea what they were, but both the boy and the man seemed to handle them carefully. _They must be important. _

"May I enquire as to what these objects are used for?" Sarutobi asked the foreigners, while folding the cardboard box to fit the bin by his desk. The jade-eyed boy looked up at him, and said one word, looking surprised at the Hokage's question.

"Magic."

Sarutobi blinked. "What is this 'magick' you speak of?"

The boy turned to his companion. "Can I, Sirius?"

The blue-eyed man nodded. "They probably won't be able to trace us here, Harry."

The boy -Harry, was it?- turned back towards Sarutobi, and with a swish and a flick, a stray pen started to rise into the air! This was unlike any sort of Jutsu or Bloodline Konoha's Hokage had ever seen. His eyes opened slightly wider, but the elder man hid his surprise well.

"Can both of you perform this kind of magick?"

The blue-eyed man -Sirius, he was called- spoke up this time. "Yes. There are many other things we wizards can do with our magic and our wands, and not all of them are pleasant." He sighed

This was very interesting to Sarutobi. Although the two strangers were still a possible threat, they carried a new weapon that if used right, could greatly help Konoha. Even if it was only the two strangers that could use this magick, they could easily become Konoha's allies. This would have to be kept as classified information.

"Can this ability only be used by you, or could someone else use it say- in a battle?" Sarutobi asked

The boy called Harry shook his head. "Only people with magic can use magic, and you would have to have a wand made for you… And besides, wand making is an art that not many people know. We certainly don't.."

The Hokage nodded. "I understand. I would like to thank you for trusting me with this. I would also like to warn you against telling any one in this village of your ability. I do not think it would be wise to unveil it quite yet." He interlaced his fingers, twiddling his thumbs. "On a lighter note, I would like to inform you that I have found a person who has agreed to temporarily allow you to live in her home until we find a better arrangement, or you find another home here in the village. She is willing to teach you our language and ways, so that you can properly integrate into Konoha." At Sirius' questioning look, he elaborated. "Konohagakure is our village, an I am its Hokage -a leader of sorts.. Oh, and before I forget, all costs will be covered, so you won't have to worry about paying anything."

Sirius looked relieved and Harry had to admit that he hadn't thought about any of that, so caught with the present he was.

* * *

A knock sounded at the door. Sarutobi stood, (Harry and Sirius following suit) and went to the door, opening it. A young black-haired woman stood at the door, dressed in even stranger clothes than what Sirius and Harry had seen so far. Her outfit looked a little like a sort of dress, combined with a fishnet top and a plain, long-sleeved shirt. She, like nearly every other person Harry had seen, wore the same head band with the spiral design engraved on the centre of the metal. Her calves were partly wrapped with bandages, and she also wore the same, dark blue sandals. What struck Harry the most, was her deep red eyes. They were almost the colour of blood, and contrasted sharply with her pale skin and almost black hair. She turned and bowed to the old man, talking to him fluently in the same foreign language Harry didn't understand. Harry caught a word or two he recognized, like _Hokage,_ but didn't understand much of the rest.

"You requested my presence, Hokage-sama?" Kurenai asked, unsure if she had come at the right time. Perhaps her new mission might have to do with the two men- obviously not ninjas- standing by the Hokage's desk. She rarely came up to his office because he rarely requested for her services. She preferred to stick to the mission assignment office. Besides, people usually requested other elite Jounin than herself. Customers seemed to prefer brute strength over illusion and strategy tactics.

"Yes, Kurenai." The Hokage replied, "These two men are foreigners, and the council and I have decided to place them under your guard. We do not know much about the two, only that they do not speak or understand Japanese. The specifics are in this packet-" He held out an envelope which Kurenai took, tucking it away in a pocket. " - and you are to house and teach them our language and about our culture. This will be your mission, set indefinitely, on top of training your team. You will report to me weekly."

He switched to English and turned to foreigners. "May I know your names?"

"Harry Potter."

"Sirius Black"

Sarutobi frowned. "You say your clan name after your birth name?"

The black-haired man nodded a yes.

The Hokage then turned to Kurenai, indicating each person in turn. "This is Potter, Harry and Black, Sirius." He told her in Japanese.

She bowed and said something that they didn't quite catch, leaving both foreigners looking puzzled.

Sarutobi turned back to Harry and Sirius looking satisfied. Harry supposed that things were going as he had planned. The man was a little like Dumbledore in that respect, just more serious and less fond of sweets.

"Gentlemen, this is who you will be housed with. Her name is Kurenai. Yuuhi Kurenai."

* * *

**_Yuuhi Kurenai_** - An elite Jônin. Her speciality lies in Genjutsu. (I believe.) Her Genin team is composed of Hinata, Shino, and Kiba.

**_Japanese Language_** - Because the author of Naruto is in fact Japanese, I believe it is right to have the people of "Naruto Land" speaking Japanese.

**_The Council_** - The council is of my invention. It is made up of the heads of several clans. Most of these clans are the oldest in Konohagakure. They help the Hokage manage the village. The council acts as advisors of sorts, influencing the Hokage's decision but cannot change the final result. The Council meets monthly.

**_Morino Ibiki_** - Jônin Leader of the Torture and Interrogation Department of Konoha. Sports many scars on his face and head. Very menacing figure.


	9. Of Learning Life and New Habits

Chapter 8 - Of Learning Life and New Habits

"_Gentlemen, this is who you will be housed with. Her name is Kurenai. Yuuhi Kurenai."_

* * *

One thing Harry could distinctly remember in the muddle of his thoughts that day, was when he and Sirius were introduced to their new home: it was a somewhat plain, small flat, -nothing out of the ordinary- until Harry noticed one thing, and then spotted another, and the domino effect continued. Aside from the obvious difference in the furniture and decorating styles, there were subtle differences slipped in here and there. The whole apartment was like a spot-the-difference picture book. A knife like object in a pencil pot, scrolls, books, and magazines stacked messily up onto a single shelf, some half- rolled.. Everything was very discrete, but all one had to do was just _look_. 

Stepping into the main room, Harry noted that everything was rather squashed. The kitchen unit was integrated into the living and dining rooms, and there were only three other doors opening on to different rooms. Harry assumed that one of them led into the bedroom, and another into the bathroom, he was intrigued as to what could possibly be behind door number three. Harry was brought back to the present when he absently noticed their new host taking off her sandals and tucking them away into a wooden shoe-rack. Peering out curiously from behind Sirius, Harry frowned. All of the floors that he had seen so far in the apartment had wooden flooring, so why was she taking off her sandals? Perhaps it was a custom that he didn't know about? Deciding it was safer to imitate the young woman, He slid out of his too-large shoes, (Dudley's old ones, naturally..) peeled his old socks off, tucking them into the shoes and hesitatingly put them on the rack. His eyes met hers, and she nodded, softly saying a few words in that language he didn't understand. He put his shoes on the wooden rack anyways.

* * *

Lunch that day had been an awkward affair for Kurenai. She could easily tell the foreigners _(What were their names again?) _were nervous and unsure of what to do, how to act. She couldn't really blame them. It the same position she would've probably felt the same. They were both lost in a country not their own, unable to communicate, and being ricocheted around between people who didn't particularly want to take care of them; much like stray dogs. She probably wouldn't have bothered to take in these two men -one boy, one man- unless it wasn't a mission, and one ordered by the Hokage. 

She had cooked up a simple meal, consisting of white rice and leftovers of the plain meat dish that she had made the day before. There wasn't much time today to make something new, so she had to make do with leftovers. The first problem had started when the two men were left clueless about how to eat with chopsticks. Kurenai was stumped about how to explain two the pair how to use the eating utensils. Asking them hadn't improved the situation by any because they didn't understand a word she said, and she only had a few spoons, (all dirty that day,) so was resigned to miming out the whole process. It had actually turned out to be very interesting and funny to see the two try to scoop up the rice. The younger of the pair had lost his temper and had ended up stabbing the chopsticks into his rice, eyebrows knotted together in a displeased expression, muttering not-so-pleasant-adjectives about his meal. Kurenai had never been so glad she was good at concealing her emotions. Any other regular non-shinobi person would've cracked a smile, at the very least. Besides, it would have been rude to laugh at her guests. The blue-eyed man on the other hand, was openly laughing at the younger boy (perhaps his sibling?) despite the fact that he hadn't done a much better job with his own rice and chopsticks. Eyes laughing, Kurenai went to clean a spoon for the young teenager.

* * *

Harry had stretched and rolled over, slowly waking up to a new day in his new life. He groaned soundlessly and cracked his tired eyes open, squinting at the light. The white ceiling stared back at him as bright sunlight lit the room. Sitting up, a suddenly puzzled (but very sleepy) Harry looked around the room. _Where on Earth…_He frowned, but remembered quickly enough that he was in the bedroom of his host, and that it was actually quite late. The clock on the bedside table beside the only bed of the room read nine a.m. Mounted on a low-rise wooden frame, the mattress Harry was sitting on was rather hard, in his opinion. He had previously found out the hard way that mattresses on this particular side of the universe weren't made with springs. 

The two sleeping bags that had been used by Kurenai and Sirius had been tucked away somewhere out of sight. Harry assumed that Kurenai liked her rooms to be neat, as it mirrored the rather Spartan way the rest of her apartment was furnished: with the bare essentials. Fortunately, she had managed to find an old foldable chair for last nights dinner, or else the trio would have been eating on the floor. Getting up, Harry made the bed as well as he could, and trying valiantly to straighten out his slept-in clothing, walked quietly into the main room of the apartment.

* * *

A few days later of washing the pair's clothing over and over, Kurenai had decided to take Harry and Sirius to purchase some much needed clothing. That day's afternoon found the group ambling down one of Konoha's main streets in the shopping district, and Harry looking curiously at his new surroundings, appearing even more like the newcomer that he was. Sirius, on the other hand, didn't look very awake. He was trailing behind Kurenai and Harry in a sleepy daze, not really paying attention to where he was going: it was obvious that he was not a morning person. The trio were out shopping for clothing, since their original clothing looked rather foreign, and since Kurenai hadn't much to lend to Harry and Sirius. Harry couldn't bring himself to imagine him wearing the rather short, red dress that was the usual clothing that their minder wore. He shivered. _I never want to imagine myself wearing that, or worse, Sirius!_

Brightly coloured signs of all sorts lined the street shop windows and walls, contrasting with the duller exteriors of plaster and wood. Pipes and wiring of all sorts ran along the concrete walls of the shops and what could have been living quarters, slithering throughout the maze of streets and alleyways that made up the village of Konohagakure. Stands and booths selling all the things possible and imaginable (in Harry's opinion,) were squashed side by side, the vendors holding them trying to attract as many customers as possible. Some shops had dusty windows, but the majority were kept shiny clean and well stocked. Grocery stores were mashed in with weapons stores, and antique furniture shops. Harry let his eyes roam over bizarre, foreign letters, wondering what they could possibly mean.. Strange curves, arches and lines stood out on the signs, posters, and advertisements that were pasted -sometimes messily- along the walls and glass shop windows. Noticing him staring at his surroundings, Kurenai spoke.

"It good." She spoke slowly, using the minimum of English words that she had been previously taught by the Hokage in a brief meeting, Harry, and Sirius. "Now is time of ---" She said a different word that Harry didn't recognize. He frowned, confused and shrugged, showing that he didn't understand. Kurenai tried again.

"Time of.." She paused, trying to think of an easy word, "little price." Harry was still puzzled, but then realization soon dawned upon him. _Ah.. It is the sale season. I guess that will make her job easier money wise…_

They turned off of the crowded main street and into a less busy alley, inching their way through the thick crowds that seem to invade even the smaller, much more narrow streets and the less popular marketplaces. On several occasion Harry had found himself about to trip over something in his path, or bumping into a stranger. He hoped that there weren't any pick pockets around here, but even if there were, he wasn't carrying any money, and his wand, (on the Hokage's insistence) had been safely locked and hidden away in one of Kurenai's "hiding spots." Speeding up to catch up to Sirius (who from the back looked nearly exactly like everyone else crowding the street,) Harry quickly forgot about his locked up wand. After all, he had only owned it since he first encountered the magical world. The remainder of his life had been spent living as a muggle in his Aunt and Uncle's household. It was not pleasant to be reminded of his childhood. _And maybe it is best that I leave it at that: dusty memories at the back of my head! _

Sirius, on the other hand, wasn't quite as stunned as Harry was with the rather obvious indicators that this was indeed a wholly different culture and peoples. As a child of a wealthy and well-known pureblood family, Sirius had had the privilege to take holidays to all sorts of countries, especially in Europe, for it was the closest continent to the United Kingdom in which his family owned several large holiday homes. One trip in particular that Sirius had been part of, had been a holiday in China, while his family was reacquainting themselves with some distant relatives- or was it friends of family? It didn't matter: he couldn't remember anyways. Surprisingly, Sirius found many similarities between the two places: clothing, buildings, and a few other subtle aspects. Although there were major differences between the China he had visited as an eight year old and the place he was in now, he could see similarities here and there. Sirius found all of this quite interesting. _It would be fascinating to read more about the history of this place… _he thought,_ but on the other hand, I think that Moony has influenced me much more than I thought! Honestly! Sirius Black! Reading! Hah!_

As Kurenai expertly weaved in and out of the various people bustling around her, leading her guests to the clothes shop she had planned to go, she noticed that the boy was lagging behind. He must've been overwhelmed by all of the different things assaulting his senses, but nevertheless it wouldn't do anyone any good if they were caught by an enemy daydreaming. She sighed. It was pretty tedious, taking care of two practically crippled men. Without proper speech, they were indeed practically useless. She would have to teach them how to speak properly in her language very soon, otherwise the situation would further delay the pair's assimilation into the world of Konohagakure and it's surroundings. Besides, Kurenai didn't particularly want to keep these two strangers in her house and living off her food any longer than was necessary.

They turned to their right into the doorway of an even smaller alley, (one well hidden by garbage bins and a curtain of drying laundry, I might add,) Harry and Sirius were lead into a small, rather dumpy courtyard. The graying walls and the dusty windows and shutters creating an image of a throughout run down place. Kurenai appeared to ignore these details, and stepping over the semi-circle that made up some sort of old open drainage system, she headed straight to the left, towards a dirty-windowed shop that actually looked somewhat fixed up. Harry looked up, and spotted a many wires held up by old wooden posts, and patched up wooden tiled roofs. Most of the piping was on the outside of the houses, making them appear less clean and neat than they would see. A lot of the electric wire poles had been carved into, and graffiti's covered one whole section of a crumbling wall opposite from where Harry had entered the courtyard.. Perhaps the inhabitants of this particular corner of Konoha were just waiting for it to crumble away and collapse to rebuild something else in its place. Harry could see a spot of green beyond one of the boarded up holes in the graffiti'd wall. This was indeed a quaint place.

Holding the old, wood and glass door open for Harry, Sirius explored the shop's nooks and crannies with his eyes. It was indeed remarkably similar to the very shop of Ollivander the wand maker, the one located on Diagon Alley. Kurenai walked up to the old, chipped piece of furniture that appeared to be the main counter of the shop, and leaned on it, waiting for the shopkeeper. There was no bell on the counter that Sirius' keen eye could spot: the counter itself was covered in stacks of material, some dusty, some not so dusty and aged. There was also some sort of leather leaned precariously on the edge of the counter, but held up by the pile of black, metallic square blocks that had been untidily dumped there as well, on top of the portion of leather that rested on the counter. There was an pencil holder on the dumpy desk, but the dry, old brick of foam that had the writing implements and sewing apparatus impaled into it could hardly be considered a proper pencil pot. There were a few quills in the dry, green foam brick -which surprised Sirius- but they too were in a rather unhealthy condition, looking as if they had been given to a stray dog to eat. The other writing implements weren't in a much better condition either, compared to what he and Harry had seen in the Hokage's office.

Turning towards the rather crowded walls of the dusty old shop, Sirius observed the very full, wooden shelves that lined the dirty, concrete walls. There were all sorts of antiques and bibelots of all sorts, that lined the precariously crooked shelves and very few were remotely familiar to Sirius. Of course, there were a few chipped vases here and there, and one or two statuettes covered in the dust that seemed to coat the entire shop, but the rest of the bizarre objects held little to no meaning to him. One thing, however, that really drew his gaze to it, was a painting. Although this painting was neither colourful nor out of the ordinary, it was intriguingly mysterious. The painting's subject was a life-like, to-scale picture of a man with a piercing stare, one of those stares that possessed the ability to draw the viewer into the painting and never let go. The painting depicted a young man in his twenties, with lively blue eyes, and a head full of straw-blonde hair that looked just as untameable as Harry's mop of hair. The painting had a dark, gray-black background, and it contrasted well with the sunny colour of the subject's hair.

Tired of waiting, Kurenai called for the shopkeeper. He wouldn't have minded much anyways if she had made herself comfortable anyways; they knew each other. A door slammed, making both Harry and Sirius jump. The younger looked embarrassed when he realized that the noise had only been the bang of a door closing. _The lad has some fast reflexes_, Kurenai noted. _Perhaps this will be useful in the future. _She looked towards the back of the store. The store owner had finally arrived. She greeted him warmly, apologizing for not having come to visit him more often. The short, rather round man had been a close friend of her now deceased mother, and Kurenai had had the pleasure to make the acquaintance when she had been younger. He was a man of all trades, working with metal as well as cloth and fabric. His shop was a quiet affair, but it was reliable to various its customers, satisfying most of their materialistic needs. Kurenai herself bought most of what she required as far as her ninja profession required: the right kind of clothing, standard issue (but good quality) weapons, and scrolls and seals of all sorts. Being well acquainted to the owner of the store had its benefits, of course. Should Kurenai have requested, the aging man could have easily procured her an object that she needed and that he did not have in stock.

Her short but pleasant conversation with her old friend came to a close, and Kurenai turned to Sirius and Harry and introduced them to Nobu the shopkeeper, finding them absorbed in the bobbles and antiques that decorated the store's wall-shelves. Getting their attention was relatively easy, as she and Nobu had indeed been talking for a good five minutes.

"Sirius-san, Harry-san, this is Nobu-san. He is keeper of this shop. This where we will buy clothing for both of you."

The short man nodded, and gestured for Sirius to come forward to in order for him to get the taller man's clothing measurements. While he was measuring Sirius with the added height of a wooden stool, Nobu spoke to Kurenai, inquiring as to what type of clothing the two foreigners might want.

She replied to her friend in her native language. "They will be needing a whole wardrobe, but much of it will have to be standard issue, easy-to-move in clothing." Kurenai smiled. "I have plans for them."

Seeing that smile, Nobu winced slightly, all while working on his client. "I do hope that the Hokage will approve, Kurenai. I do remember how awry that last 'plan' of yours went."

His only reply was a mischievous giggle.

* * *

_The new clothes feel strange. They really do._ Harry thought while experimentally pulling on the clothes made by Nobu the shopkeeper. New shirts and trousers are indeed a new experience, especially if they are much more form fitting than the previous set of clothing owned by said person. Even the material itself was different, more stretchy and yet coarse at the same time. There were no holes or tears in the darkly coloured trousers either, and the various styles of shirts (long sleeved with turtle neck, t-shirt, and more.) were a whole other affair to Harry, who, apart from his cousin's overlarge, worn down, faded clothing, hadn't worn anything else save his school uniform. This meant that Harry had to constantly restrain himself from pulling and pinching at his new outfit. Even Sirius had noticed his fiddling at dinner that night, and eventually enquired about this new habit. 

"Kiddo, did Mr. Nobu get the measurements wrong or something? You look uncomfortable." _Understatement of the year. _Harry thought grumpily.

"I guess I'm not used to wearing such tight clothing.. Aunt Petunia never exactly bothered taking me shopping, so all of my old clothes were originally Dudleys hand-me-downs." He rubbed his nose tiredly.

This drew a look of pity from Kurenai, and Sirius frowned, looking angry, but thankfully for Harry, that was the end of the subject. (But not Harry's fiddling.)

_  
It's the under wear. I know it is! _

* * *

They were standing in a well used clearing in the woods outside of Konoha, but not too far from the village. These grounds were training grounds five, and Harry was the one being trained. 

"Here."

With a soft clinking sound, a medium sized pouch dropped into Harry's hands. He looked at it, and back to Kurenai. Last time she had said the same thing, and none of it had turned out pretty. (In fact, much of it turned out quite the opposite, because last time it had been cleverly made, disguisable, weighted ankle bracelets and weighted forearm bands. Harry still shivered at the memory.)

"These are _shuriken_, and that, a _shuriken pouch._" Kurenai spoke much more easily in English, and had started to teach Harry some more Japanese. Sirius, on the other hand, had been sent off to work for Nobu the shopkeeper during most of the week, mostly because he was much too old for him to start training as a Konoha shinobi. His unfortunate stay in Azkaban hadn't helped his health or well-being any, so Sirius had resigned himself to occasionally taking a jog or doing some light exercise with Harry, if only to get back into a better shape fitness wise.

Fortunately, Nobu had soon been able to find him a smith who was willing to work with Sirius and teach him more about the craft. Sirius was much more happier at being able to learn new things and staying active, and -of course- especially happy at being able to make his way around without standing out, or having to sneak like the fugitive that he had been. He was also much more fluent in the local language than Harry, a result that came from spending most of his day in the smithy with .

"These are weapons used by _shinobi _during battles and such. You will be learning how to use them Harry-san."

Kurenai had started off with the basics of the basics, which meant learning how to properly hold them, and figuring out how to properly throw the deadly metal stars. Harry's self-appointed teacher had quickly noticed that he lacked the strength to throw the shuriken far, and set him the task of doing push-ups, and other exercises to improve the dexterity of this fingers and his overall coordination. One of the more general exercises designed to help his dexterity and coordination -strangely enough- included juggling. First he started out slowly, later on adding more objects to juggle with, and even later, walking around, or being quizzed during his juggling exercise on his general knowledge by Kurenai. Overall, Kurenai was managing his growth as a ninja quite adeptly, even for a newly made Jônin, all the while trying to keep track of her fledgling Genin trio and getting her weekly reports to the Hokage.

* * *

Kunai throwing lessons and library visits had followed shortly after Harry's introduction to the _NinPou. _This time around, with Sirius' aid on his free days, Harry spent afternoons holed up in the large and informative Konoha library, learning how to read various easy scrolls and books, mostly on topics that concerned shinobi or the art of the shinobi.. The librarian knew the boy and the man well by sight, often stopping his tasks to give the pair a little wave upon their arrival.

* * *

Apart from busy language and strenuous physical lessons, the trio were getting to know each other better over meals and during their free time, Harry and Sirius also liked to meet up with Kurenai and her Genin team to go out for a lunch or dinner. Although Harry didn't know much about Kurenai's three person Genin team, he enjoyed talking a little in his broken vocabulary to the quiet girl named Hinata. Although neither she nor her team mate's quiet personalities had made much of an effect on their third team member's loud and boisterous personality, Harry still came to like the boy's puppy. He was called Akamaru. Poor Sirius had a hard time with Kiba's puppy, (the owner of the dog.) but Harry surmised that it was probably because he still smelt like his shaggy dog animagus form Padfoot. _(Or something…)_

"Get off me you miniature mutt-thing!"

Harry only laughed.

* * *

Shinobi training was hard, _very _hard. Harry knew it, and so did Kurenai. _Unfortunately._ Kurenai had upped the weight on Harry's weighted forearm and ankle bracelets, which meant sore muscles for a few days, and she had added yet another aspect to her student's training: learning Konoha's history back to front, and ninjutsu/genjutsu theory. Although Harry still thought that this was pushing the limits, he still found that he enjoyed the challenge of being pushed to his maximum. 

Currently, the-boy-who-lived was huffing his way around a quiet, but very large training ground outside of Konoha village. Unfortunately for the boy, this wasn't the well packed dirt ground of training grounds number five: it was wild terrain that Kurenai (his torturer) had decided he would run. The ground was uneven, grassy, and dotted with rocks just large enough to trip over, thus making Harry have to concentrate on not tripping over his own feet or the ground. Even more unfortunate, Kurenai had decided that she would throw a pebble at her beloved student to get him to dodge it and run faster, also making him have to concentrate on something else than his tiredness and the uneven ground. In the event that Kurenai would see that Harry had managed to dodge the little pebbles thrown at him (with deadly accuracy, I might add,) Kurenai would quiz Harry on what he had learned about Konohagakure, it's history, and the shinobi arts.

Kurenai's Genin team was out on a mission, and luckily _(yeah right)_ for Harry, it was a low D- rank mission that she trusted them to do right without her for this time. Harry had nearly snorted out loud when he had heard what the actual 'mission' was -potting plants and flowers- but apparently the menial tasks served the purpose of bringing a newly formed Genin team together and making them learn teamwork. Of course, this particular rank of missions served more importantly to get tasks around the village done, and easy cash, especially for poorer ninjas in need of a job.

Kurenai had informed Harry that he would -once reasonably up to the level of her Genin team- join them daily when it was a training day. Missions of course, would come later, because every ninja needed a firm base before they were placed into their three-man cell. Target practices also continued, but this time it was with moving targets, at first it was the large and purposefully slow target of Kurenai herself, (with her catching the kunai and shuriken,) but later she made him move onto smaller, faster targets that were mostly genjutsu illusions of small animals. Harry soon learned to be quick when it came to rabbits: the little buggers ran in a zigzag pattern that, at first, the black haired young man had found pretty hard to figure out.

* * *

Sarutobi looked up from his round glass ball that he used to scry, all the while fiddling with his favourite jade Gama-Bunta statuette. It had been two months, and both foreigners had indeed been integrating well into the bustle of everyday Konoha, aided by a supportive Kurenai. Sarutobi had been relieved that she had needed no prompting what so ever to become Potter-san's teacher. The boy did have potential to become a decent shinobi, if not more, as was hinted by his alertness and overall learning capability when he was presented with a problem or challenge. Furthermore, Kurenai had worked a little to broadening his social connections, similar to what Kurenai's shopkeeper friend had done with the man, Sirius Black. It seemed that the only thing Black-san had really needed was a task to do. He was not comfortable doing nothing, and easily became restless. 

The third Hokage set his favourite paperweight down gently, and stood up slowly, his overused joints creaking, and set off to the soon-to-start council meeting. It was high time that he retire again, and spend the rest of his already old life with his beloved wife. He did have enough to live comfortably. Ah well.. There were times when he was allowed to hate his paper-shuffling job. Unlike popular beliefs, there were indeed negative aspects to being the Hokage of such a large village. Sarutobi never wanted to see, read, or hear another complain about the pervert-haunted bathhouses either! Dratted old Toad-Sannin.

* * *

**_Food and Eating Habits _**- It is my belief (from what little Asian customs I have observed, that most of the food is eaten with chopsticks, (occasionally fingers and spoons for soup, etc.) and that contrary to what Japanese restaurants portray, sushi and sashimi aren't everyday house dishes. Furthermore, any of you who have never eaten with chopsticks before will find it hard to do so without dropping food everywhere, just as I find it amusing to watch others (namely my mother) try. (I'm sure my Korean friend has had a laugh or two at me too, because even though I have been taught how to use chopsticks at a younger age -five or six- my regular table setting is composed of a knife, a fork, and a spoon. Sue me.) 

**_Beds in Konoha_** - Once again, artistic licence probably takes me elsewhere than what reality probably is. As a young child I have always slept on a futon on the floor, and believe me when I say these things have no springs in them. I do not know for sure how Japanese people keep their beds (wooden frame, and springs or no,) but I have included a good pinch of otherstuff, drawing on my personal knowledge, and a little from the manga.

**_Streets and Markets_** - This aspect of the story is also mostly setting the scene in a way that I find most of the fan fictions do not do. I have taken busy Singaporean streets and markets, and mixed with them with a pinch of what I know tourists can do to places on even good days, and hope for the best; that the mix is right. Furthermore, in the manga, Konoha is portrayed as a busy, yet run down town (even maybe city) so it is only logical that it has it's own Knockturn alley of sorts.

**_Konoha Clothing_** - This particular aspect of Konohagakure I have found hard to replicate in my own writing and fan fiction. Most of what random village people that we see in the early manga books (that I have at hand) are either ninjas, or people from elsewhere than Konoha. I am a fashion disaster, but have hopefully been vague enough not to worry. ;)

**_Nobu_** - Quite short, rather around the chubby side, this amicable shopkeeper can easily become dangerous when it comes to getting what he wants. His store houses a lot of Konoha's bizarre acquisitions, and he is somewhat a collector of antiques, but focusses on being a man-of-most-trades. He is a middle aged man, who is incidentally friends to the Jônin Kurenai, originally friends to her deceased mother. Happens to be acquainted to Matsushita, smith and father of Genin Ten-ten. Nobu, incidentally enough means knob. (According to random, free, online translator.)

**_Kunai_** - Other standard shinobi weapon. Small knives with key ring-like loop on the end of the handle, probably for easier handling. Double sided edge, and very sharp and durable. If used right, able to create a lot of damage.

**_Training Methods_** - Although I do study some martial arts, I am not an expert on that or the proper way to train a ninja, so I've referenced the book, who's only chakra-less techniques were much less creative than my own, and have only used the manga as a springboard. Go figure. On another note, the weighted objects mentioned, such as bracelets would probably give more general body strength rather than specifically, such as exercise like push-ups, which focus mostly just on arm strength. Theory, on the other hand, I believe to be important to at least know a little, because it does help when it comes to kicking, punching. This is probably also true for kunai, shuriken, and other Ninja arts or techniques.

**_NinPou_** - The arts of the ninja, or Ninja arts. (Definition by - Ranked (unless I am mistaken) as lowest D-rank, C, B, A, with S-class missions as the hardest of them all, usually only assigned to Anbu. Payed lower or higher according to difficulty. D-rank missions include common, menial tasks such as weeding, repairing, and painting. People will request ninjas to do mission for a sum of money.

**_Genjutsu_** - The art of illusion. (I am unsure of the proper translation.) Ensnares the senses of target into believing something other than reality is happening. Can be broken by the target knowing or realizing that they are under an illusion, or by releasing chakra to prevent being trapped.

**_Gama-Bunta_** - A summon of one of the characters of the Naruto manga called Jiraya. Gama-Bunta is the boss summon, taking shape as a massive toad armed with a deadly sword. Summoned by signing a summoning contract in blood, and by using the right hand seals and necessary amount of chakra. Less chakra would result in another, smaller summon of the toad summons. (Gama-Kichi is one of the lesser summons.)

**_The Hokage's scrying ball_** - originally seen in the first manga book, and used by Sarutobi the Hokage to spy on various people of Konoha. Can only be used to a certain extent, as he is unable to spy on other people such as Orochimaru, etc.

**_Jiraya _**- Also known as the Legendary Toad Sannin. (Sennin?) Part of the Legendary Three. Consisted of Tsunade, Jiraya, and Orochimaru. Holder of summoning scroll of Toads, and writer of the Come Come Paradise series. Very perverted, and declares (and insists) that spying on the women's side of the hot springs or bathhouses inspire him in his writing of the Come Come Paradise books. Favours flashy techniques, and skilled in sealing and unsealing. Tends to get drunk at the wrong times. The character Jiraya originates from a legend.

**_Tsunade_** - Part of Legendary Three, well know as the Slug Sannin (Sennin?) Summons slugs, favours her superhuman strength, healing techniques, and is holds a reputation for being the Legendary Sucker when it comes to gambling. Appears later in the Naruto manga. Originates from same legend that Jiraya does.

**_Orochimaru_** - Originally part of Legendary Thee, know as the Snake Sannin, (Sennin?) Summons Snakes, favours snake based techniques, and has a 'thing' for immortality. Good guy turned bad, and high-rank missing nin. Very dangerous. Originates from same legend mentioned above.

_My thanks to the reviews, cc, and corrections that I have recieved so far. Very Helpful! (Don't worry, the story isn't dead. I do work on it once in a while, but I like to try to preserve the quality of the writing, so no super fast updates.. ducks the tomatoes.) Special thanks: SpiritKyuubi, with whom I discuss a lot of my theories, Ankle biter for the correction on 'foreign foods', and finally Templa Otmena for the kind review.  
Yours,  
The Author._


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